


Alexithymia

by fizzfooz



Series: Worth [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bro bonding, Chocobros - Freeform, Daddy Issues, Friendship, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Male Friendship, Poor Prompto, Protectiveness, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, noctis - Freeform, prompto - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2018-11-01 20:33:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10929537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fizzfooz/pseuds/fizzfooz
Summary: Prompto is coping. Badly.Sequel to Worth. This fic contains references to rape so please don't read on if this is a trigger for you.





	1. Chapter 1

Sleep wasn't happening. Prompto was tired. More tired than he'd ever been in his life. But every time he closed his eyes he'd start awake a second later with an imaginary hand penning his arms down, his stomach lurching like he'd fallen down the stairs. The unfamiliar surrounding would panic him for a bit until he realised he was right beside Noct's old room.

The doctor had been nice. Professional. She hadn't asked him any questions just checked him over. Reminded him of a mom. What a mom should be anyway. They'd made him have a blood test. He'd probably have been worried about that a couple of days ago, in case there was something in his blood that showed he wasn't human. Showed that maybe it was right, what had happened. Maybe they'd known somehow--

He clenched his fingers around his wristband. The one piece of clothing they hadn't torn off him. Maybe it had been just some monsters attacking other monsters. Like the daemons who fought each other outside Insomnia. The way things were supposed to be.

He didn't know whether that was comforting or not.

He turned his head. Noctis had filled the dresser beside him with potions and snacks. He hadn't wanted to leave and would probably have fussed over Prompto all night if he hadn't told him he was tired. He meant well but it was just... hard to be around him. The guilt radiated off him and that wasn't right. None of it had been Noctis' fault. The men whose fault it actually was hadn't felt guilty at all. Prompto almost wished the Kingsglaive had left one of them alive so he could ask why.

Why him? Why that? Just... why?

Obviously being alone with his thoughts wasn't helping, so Prompto gave up on sleep. He headed out of the room.

There was a guard on his door. Gladio, to be exact.

“The doctor told you to sleep,” Gladio said.

“I'm just gonna go for a walk.”

“She said to get some sleep.”

“Yeah. I heard you the first time. But I can't sleep so now I'm walking.”

“I, uh...” Gladio's gaze slid away from him, his shoulders hunching down to make him less massive. He didn't finish the sentence for a while, just stood there like that. “I killed two of them.”

Yeah. Prompto had seen it. The guy who tore him the second time and his friend who'd both pushed into him together. He'd thought watching them die would help but it didn't. Because them being dead didn't change anything. Because watching was all he could do. Because Gladio knew he'd let them do it.

“The Kingsglaive usually arrest bad guys,” Gladio said. “But after they-- after we saw what they'd done no one wanted to go easy on them.”

So they knew then. The all knew. It had to have been pretty obvious, the mess he was in, but he'd kinda hoped they'd been too bus with the fight to pay much attention.

“Can I go now?” Prompto asked.

“You don't have to...” Gladio did something weird with his arm. Up then down like he'd wanted to touch Prompto but didn't dare. Was it going to be like that now? Everyone tip-toeing around him? “You want me to wake up Noct?”

 _No._ He couldn't think of anyone who he wanted to see less right now. Being seen after was bad enough but Noct had seen everything.

“You don't have to ask my permission for anything,” Gladio said, eventually. “I can't leave Noct, so...”

Prompto hurried away from him. He could see Gladio was trying and it wasn't like any of it was his fault but that didn't mean he wasn't just fucking bad at this stuff. It was weird. Prompto hadn't wanted to sleep but now he was on his feet everything was swimming in front of him. He was kinda untethered from his body in a way he didn't think a literal shield of a man would understand, and he couldn't explain it in any case. The fall of his borrowed boots on the floor were like a stranger's. But maybe that was okay. Then it was like all that stuff had happened to someone else.

He realised halfway down the corridor that he had no idea where he was going. He had never been free to wander around the palace before. Noct had always lived in a whole different world to him and he'd only ever seen function rooms or hung in Noct's apartment in the city.

He figured away from Noctis was the best direction. Less chance of running into anyone he knew.

Or not. Because there was King Regis and Clarus. Both of them with their heads bowed together, discussing something super grave by the looks on their faces. Clarus was the first to notice Prompto but he only clapped Regis on the shoulder and drew his attention to Prompto.

Clarus drew back when Regis approached, looming in the background. That was something Gladio did too when Noct had to talk to some new noble or whoever.

“Prompto, wasn't it?” Regis said. “Noctis speaks fondly of you, when he speaks at all.”

“We've met.” What the hell was he doing? The _king_ was speaking to him. The actual king who was actually also Noct's dad. It would be surreal anyway but now it was extra surreal. Everything was. Too bright. Too loud. But somehow numb and muted at the same time. His heart rate ratchetted up whenever he tried to concentrate on anything.

Like Regis frowning, more lines appearing on his face. “Yes, and those were hardly the circumstances for an introduction. If you'd sit with me, please. I'm not so sprightly on my feet as you.”

They went through a door even though Prompto didn't remember moving and then he was sitting down on some couch somewhere, Regis beside him, Clarus in his peripheral vision. He thought they might have been talking to him or to each other but it was all hazy for a while.

“That's right,” Regis was saying, when Prompto's brain checked back in, in a soothing voice that was like Ignis dealing with annoying dignitaries or Noct in a mood. “Just breathe. No one expects anything of you here but for you to take the time you need.”

Prompto's heart _exploded_. Why couldn't he concentrate? What was happening?

“Breathe for me, Prompto.” Regis' voice was harder now. More commanding. “Listen to my voice. You are safe. You are under my protection. You are in my home and the home of my child. I will not allow anythingg or anyone to harm you here.”

That... helped. Not the words so much but having something to concentrate on. The world went from soft focus to sharp. The colours were still oversaturated but he didn't feel so much like an overfull helium balloon anymore, ready to pop or fly off.

“Noctis tells me you have an interest in photography,” Regis said.

 _Photos._ They'd taken photos. The blue flash on his face. The Kingsglaive had stopped them but all phones were online now. What if they sent them out? What if other people had them? What if they--?

“What is it, Prompto?”

He'd curled up on the couch without knowing it. Stupid body moving without him again.. “The took-- they have-- on their phones--” He wasn't making sense but they both shifted and then Clarus rushed away.

“We have both the means and the power to ensure that doesn't become an issue,” Regis said. He was kneeling in front of Prompto now, which must have been hard on his knees. “May I take your hands, Prompto?”

He couldn't see why not. So he uncurled and Regis squeezed both of his hands in his. “Now look at me.”

Weirdly, that helped too. Seeing a face that was just seeing him back. The men who had... they had all looked at him like he wasn't human. Like they _knew_. Noct looked at him with shame and guilt. But Regis just looked kind, with his crinkly eyes that were kind of like Noct's and kind of not.

“We can offer a sedative, if that will help.”

“I don't want that.”

“Of course. Would you like to talk to someone?”

The doctor had asked that too. They meant a professional talking person but he wasn't sure he could even think about what happened right now, let alone talk about it. Especially not to some professional who could take what he said and judge him for it and be so good at keeping a poker face he'd never know.

“They didn't touch Noct. Prince Noctis, I mean.” It was important that Regis knew that. Important he reminded himself of it too. That it had meant something.

“You were braver than a fully grown member of my Kingsglaive from how he tells it.”

“Shouldn't you call them, like, Selfsglaives?” He cringed a little. He shouldn't be talking to the king like that. But Regis only gave him a little smile, genuine mirth in his eyes.

“The character of a man is often reflected in his choice of friends,” Regis said. “The more I know of you young men, the more my confidence in Noctis grows.”

“I'm just--”

“You are not 'just' anything.”

“They said...” The words got stuck. A big traffic jam in his throat. He'd said he didn't want to talk at all but now there too many words trying to jump out at once. They had said a lot of things. Like that he was a slut even though they kept going on and on about him being a virgin too. A bitch, too. But he'd heard that before from dudes who looked like Gladio but had more of an attitude problem. They said he was made for it. Made for taking cocks even though it was clear from how much it hurt that wasn't true either. “Before they... while they... they...”

“Attacked you.”

Yeah. Attacked. That was better. They'd made it seem like it was seedy and sexual but attacked sounded more like what it was. Violent. Brutal. “They kept saying how I couldn't have been any use for a royal exept for... for doing the kind of stuff they did to me.” They'd been really interested in that while Noct was unconscious. What they might have done with each other. What parts of each other they had seen. Getting more and more graphic with it every time. It didn't matter how often Prompto told them he and Noct were just friends. _Why does he keep you around then, hm? With that pretty little cocksucker face._ “That I was useless for Noct if I couldn't do anything for him.”

“A man's worth isn't measured in what service he can provide for royalty. Clarus would be a fine man were he not my shield and you would be brave and thoughtful if you were not Noctis' friend.”

The back of Prompto's eyes itched but he wasn't going to cry. Not in front of anyone but definitely not in front of Regis. He realised that he was still gripping Regis' hands and released them, then managed to choke out a thanks.

“Thank you, Prompto. For protecting my son.”

***

Freaking everyone had insisted that Noctis let Prompto get his sleep and then Ignis had very firmly insisted Noctis had to get some sleep too. He thought maybe he shouldn't sleep out of respect for Prompto or whatever but as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was out. Waking was much harder as awareness of yesterday seeped back in.

Ignis came in while Noctis was doing his morning stretches, as regular as an alarm clock. Although that had been set for two hours later than normal so he guessed his schedule was off for a while.

“How's Prompto doing?”

“As well as can be expected,” Ignis said, setting breakfast down on Noctis' desk. Filled pastries and frothy coffee instead of the usual fruit, porridge, and glass of milk he tried to ram down Noctis' throat.

“I want to see him.”

Ignis paused in his meticulous arrangement of dishes. “Prompto has requested privacy for the duration of today.”

“He doesn't want to see me?”

“That was neither said nor implied.”

The hell it wasn't implied. Not that he blamed Prompto for not wanting him around after he'd just sat and watched while he suffered. He didn't know if he could bear to be around someone like that either. He was just so used to having Prompto around that the thought of not seeing him even for a day was mind-boggling.

“Please wash and get dressed, Noct. You have an appointment.”

An appointment? He'd been under the impression that all of his usual duties would be suspended while Prompto was here. “What kind of appointment?”

“With a therapist.”

“I don't need a therapist!” He should have seen this coming. When they'd gotten back, he'd wanted to stay with Prompto but everyone – his dad and Ignis especially – made him go and get examined too. They'd dug a few little pieces of glass out of his back from where the window had shattered, then tested his blood and reflexes in case the serum had done anything to him. None if it was serious and all of that had been a complete waste of time he could have spent being there for Prompto.

“You've been through something traumatic.”

“Traumatic? I'm not the one who was raped!”

Ignis' hands shook, making the plate of pastries wobble. The first time Noctis had ever seen him fumble with anything. “Noctis. This situation is beyond my purview and since it is my job to take care of your wellbeing, I must delegate.”

“I don't need it!”

Ignis lowered his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose between his forefingers. “You know very well that I can't force you to attend but if this is simply your usual performative grumbling before you acquiesce, I'd prefer you spare us both.”

That shut Noctis up. Ignis never spoke to him that harshly. Harshly for Ignis, anyway. And now Noctis wasn't so wrapped up in his own shit, he noticed there were dark circles under Ignis' eyes. Plus he'd been fussing over that food way too long.

Great. As if Noctis didn't have enough to feel guilt about.

He got dressed and ate his breakfast without any more backtalk. He even ate the banana Ignis laid hopefully on his plate, no matter how mushy and gross it was.

“So you spoke to Prompto?”

Ignis' expression was softer now and he'd stopped fidgeting. He looked much more like himself. “He needs some time, Noct.”

Time away from Noctis. Right. He got it. And if that was what he wanted, Noctis wasn't going to push for anything else.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inappropriate crush is inappropriate.

As far as Prompto could see, Regis was the only one who wasn't acting weird around him. Or at least if he was, Prompto hadn't known him well enough beforehand to notice. So more often than not, Pompto sought him out. He was busy all the time but that didn't seem to matter to him. Busy attending meetings on matters of state, which Prompto wasn't allowed to be part of but they did let him wait in the corridor. Or busy with paperwork, so Prompto would lie on the couch in his room while he worked. Sometimes Prompto would drift off to the sound of typing.

Today was one of the paperwork days.

“How was your appointment today?” Clarus asked, while Regis was buried under a mountain of files. He was always around too. It was hard to imagine him being Gladio's dad, he was so patient and chilled out. But maybe Gladio would be like that too in time.

“Yeah, fine.” Every morning Ignis walked him to therapy with Dr. Yamamoto. He hadn't worked up the nerve to talk to her yet about all the stuff in his head, so they made smalltalk. She was nice. A runner in her spare time so they talked about that. Or his photography – which he hadn't freaked out at like he had with Regis. He believed now that those photos wouldn't see the light of day. Regis would take care of it. “Is Dr. Yamamoto pissed about me not opening up more?”

“I doubt it but if she is, she wouldn't tell me. Dr. Yamamoto's assured us of strict patient confidentiality and she won't breathe a word to me or anyone else about anything you discuss with her.”

Okay. That was good to know. If he ever did work up the nerve to talk about it, if he ever could talk about it without crying like a baby, then at least he wouldn't have to explain himself to anyone else.

“Gladio was asking after you,” Clarus said.

“ _Gladio_ was?”

Clarus gave him a mischievous smile that made him look a lot more like his son. “He also told me I'd better not tell you that he'd been asking but was strangely recalcitrant when I asked him what would happen if I did.”

Regis gave a soft chuckle from his desk. Prompto couldn't help but smile too. Gladio was so huge he probably wasn't used to people challenging him about anything. “I'm okay.”

“You do look a lot healthier than when we first brought you home.”

Home? Had Clarus meant to say that? Prompto was definitely feeling more like himself than he had the past few days. Ignis had brought the blood test results that morning, unopened. He hadn't said anything beyond explaining what they were. He'd just been there. Been very Ignis about the whole thing while Prompto opened them. Good news on that front. The men who had attacked him hadn't given him anything.

He'd cried. Sobbed, actually. Mostly relief but it was also the idea that he could have gotten an STD on top of what they'd already done to him. Ignis had his hand on his shoulder the whole time, then rubbed his back until it was all out.

Ignis had tentatively said something about cures, probably assuming from his reaction that it was bad news. Prompto just handed him the letter. Ignis looked almost more relieved than he was but also like he might cry too.

“I am,” Prompto said, to Clarus, whose expression of polite interest had calcified while his mind wandered. “Healthy, I mean. I got my results and I'm clean as a whistle. No diseases or anything.” Whoa, TMI. But it was important that Clarus knew that for some reason. Regis too. That he wasn't diseased as well as wrecked.

Clarus didn't know what to say to that but Regis stepped in. “That's a weight off all of our minds.”

_Tell me about it._

Regis rolled his shoulders and stretched his arms behind his desk. It must suck being king and still having to do paperwork. Shouldn't he have people for that?

“I think a break is in order,” Regis said. “Clarus, if you'd arrange some refreshments for us.”

Once Clarus left the room, Regis sat beside Prompto on the couch. “Is there anything you'd like to have brought to your room from home?”

His camera was the only thing that sprang to mind. “Nothing urgent.”

“Come now. It doesn't have to be urgent. Simply give Ignis the address and he'll make the necessary arrangements.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” They'd already done so much for him. Regis had been kind. Way kinder than he'd had any right to expect. “Have you... have you seen Noct today?”

“He was scowling up a storm this morning as Ignis dropped him off somewhere or other. I'm scheduled to see that scowl again this evening for dinner. You are, of course, welcome to join us.”

He couldn't face Noct again. Not just yet. “Thanks but I...” He didn't actually have an excuse but Regis didn't seem to expect one.

“Whatever you wish.”

“Sorry I'm taking up so much of your time.” Regis was clearly busy and much more important people than Prompto needed him. Prompto shouldn't be bogarting him. Even Noct didn't see this much of his dad.

“You're a welcome distraction, I assure you.”

Regis gave another of those crinkly-eyed smiles and for the first time it struck Prompto how handsome Regis was. At this stage – or at least before the attack – Prompto could best describe his sexuality as confused. He definitely liked boobs and he'd thought maybe he liked Noct for a while. Then they'd gotten to be friends and that was just weird. He'd jerked off to all sorts of stuff before. Girls and boys in his class. Porn. Once to the memory of Gladio taking his shirt off and all those muscles. But that was before he'd really got to know Gladio and he'd die if Gladio ever found out. But that stuff was all normal for guys his age, right?

Regis didn't seem like any of that. He was just really attractive and he'd been so nice to him. What would it be like to kiss him? His beard looked really soft. Did he take lovers? Noct must have come from somewhere but he rarely mentioned his mom. There'd been no mention of Regis seeing anyone ever. What did he like?

Regis never commented on any of Prompto's weird long silences and he was sure there'd been a buttload of them since his mind got all jumbled up.

“I--” Prompto didn't have a sentence. Didn't know what he was doing. But his hand was on Regis' knee because some part of him registered that as flirting.

Regis didn't, though. He just shifted his knee so that Prompto's hand fell away. Probably thought it was an accident.

“Do you think--?” Prompto started.

But Clarus came back with a tray of food. Which was weird, now that Prompto came to think of it, because didn't they have maids for that kind of thing? Or whatever Regis' version of Ignis was? Was it because Prompto was here? Like a security thing?

“Yes, Prompto?” Regis said.

Oh, right. _Do you think I could kiss you_? Was what he'd been about to say. Obviously not in front of Clarus and it was stupid anyway.

Definitely stupid.

Regis was the king. And Noct's dad. And even if he wasn't any of those things, he was just being nice. Was Prompto really so fucked up by what had happened to him that he was going to throw himself at the first person who was nice to him?

 _But I've always been that way, haven't I?_ Craving attention. Craving Noctis' attention. Dying for anyone, anyone at all, to take an interest in him.

Well, he got his wish, didn't he?

“Something lighter perhaps?”

Prompto snapped out of it at Regis' question. He had food in front of him. Good, healthy, probably expensive food he hadn't even touched. “No! I mean, no thanks. It's good. Thank you.”

It was moot anyway. No one was gonna touch him when he was like this. They hadn't been interested before and they definitely weren't now.

****

It didn't matter how often people (Ignis) counselled Noctis to be patient. It had been over a week and Noctis hadn't caught so much as a glimpse of Prompto. The therapist that Ignis made Noctis see once a day said that Prompto needed to heal in his own way, even if that meant healing separately. She maintained that after Noctis had poured everything out to her. Everything. How he'd been useless all the way through the entire thing. How he'd watched. Saw it all. Couldn't stop any of it.

He'd thought he'd be so silent and stoic at first. But Ignis was right. Again. He had needed to talk. Desperately. So desperately once he'd started it was as unstoppable as an astral's wrath. Stuff came out he hadn't realised was bothering him. Like how was he supposed to lead a whole kingdom when he couldn't even protect his best friend?

And then there was the obvious stuff. Like how could Prompto not hate him after what happened? She couldn't answer that. She said that from how Noctis had described him, it didn't seem like he was big on hate. But she couldn't know. She didn't know Prompto and she hadn't been there. Hadn't seen how bad it was.

He almost didn't hear Ignis come in, he was so caught up in thinking about Prompto. Prompto, who didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

“How is he?” Noctis asked, the instant Ignis set eyes on him.

“Improving.” This had become so routine, Ignis didn't have to ask. Prompto apparently could stand to be around Ignis. They saw each other every day. He knew Gladio had been checking in too, hanging around the rooms under the guise of practising his future shield duties. 

Ignis placed a laminated timetable under Noctis' nose.

“What's this?”

“If you'd care to read it, you'll see that it's an updated schedule.”

An endless procession of training and tutors had been what Noctis was trying to avoid when he moved out of the palace. Since he'd been back, he'd had nothing to do but sleep, play video games, and zone out. He never thought he'd miss the boring rigmarole of his daily life before all this. The new schedule was light on lessons, heavy on combat training, and therapy.

No elocution lessons? Speech rehearsals? Etiquette stuff?

“We'll be under a revised schedule until things settle down,” Ignis said, to the quizzical look Noctis sent in his direction. “As long as you feel up to it.”

Up to it? Ignis and Regis – on the rare occasions Noctis saw his dad – treated him like he was an invalid. And they kept doing it to him no matter how often he told them nothing had happened to him. A week full of combat training sounded like exactly what he needed.

“Hell yeah I'm up to it.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter had a title it would be 'Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms'.

Noctis threw himself into every drill, hurled himself up every time Gladio knocked him on his ass, and warped all over the training hall like he was the ball in a pinball machine. Gladio might be big and strong but Noctis was faster. All that muscle must weight him down. Noctis warped beuind Gladio just as he was about to swing his stupid-ass giant training sword and jabbed in the back with his own reasonably-sized training sword.

“You're dead, Gladio.”

Ignis, who'd been bent double over a laptop the whole training session, poked his head up. “You need to conserve your energy, Noct. Going all out from the start will only serve to count against you in a drawn-out battle.”

“Yeah,” Gladio said. There was sweat dripping off the ends of his hair. “Take it easy.”

“I'm fine!”

“You won't be if you maintain this pace,” Ignis said.

“Noct--”

“C'mon,” Noctis said, before Ignis could gear up for a proper lecture. “Typing's no use to me. You and Gladio fight me. Right now.”

“As you wish, Noctis.”

The both of them were a different story. Ignis compensated for Gladio's lack of speed. Whenever Gladio left an opening, Ignis would be there. Him and his wooden sword jabbing towards Noctis' throat. Avoiding that would drag Noctis right back into Gladio's path and he'd have to warp to get out of their way.

He ended up doing a _lot_ of warping. Right up until he ran out of stamina. He didn't get a shield up in time and Ignis hit him in the throat. Just with the edge of his hand but it felt like he'd used a car. At the same time, Gladio's sword caught him in the chest and Noctis knew he'd only avoided getting his ribs broken because Gladio pulled it at the last second.

Noctis ended up on his back, bruised, winded, and with his lower back spasming like it hadn't in years.

“You done _now_?” Gladio said, looming over him. His big sword was still stupid. Someone must have had to carve that for him especially because there sure as hell weren't any that big on the training rack.

“Why? You giving up?”

Gladio looked like he was about to explode but Ignis nudged him aside. He wasn't sweating. His glasses weren't even askew.

“Noctis. Over-exerting yourself serves no purpose.”

Noctis pushed himself onto his feet. Every cell in his body screamed but if he couldn't fight when he had nothing left, then what good was he? “Bring it, Four Eyes.”

Ignis pushed him back over with barely a tap. Noctis didn't manage to break fall, just collapsed, taking the impact on his shoulders. If it weren't for the training mats he'd probably be wrecked.

“That's enough,” Ignis said.

“No it isn't!” He couldn't get up properly this time. He managed to get up onto his hands and knees but they were shaking. “How the hell am I meant to protect you if I can't even beat you?”

Gladio snorted. “We can protect ourselves.”

“No you can't!” It wouldn't have mattered if it had been Ignis. Or Gladio. They'd all have done the exact same thing because apparently Noctis was just so fucking important. And these stupid selfless assholes would do anything to keep him safe. “I have to-- I have to...”

Gladio picked him up like he was a kid, one arm supporting him, the other cradling the back of his head. He propped Noctis up on one of the benches.

“Easy, Noct,” he said, voice softer than Noctis had ever heard it. “You're okay.”

Ignis pressed a potion into his hands. “Drink.”

Noctis' arms were still shaking but he could do that at least. The potion only made his _body_ hurt less and shit, was he crying? In front of _Gladio_?

“Hey,” Gladio said. _Holy shit!_ Was Gladio crying? Not crying _crying _but his eyes were wet. “You can't protect anyone if your body's all jacked up. So don't be a dumbass, dumbass.”__

__“Come now,” Ignis said. “He's no worse than you when you're on a tear.”_ _

__“Bullshit he is.”_ _

__“From my perspective, you're all dumb-arses.”_ _

___Arses_. That was funny for some reason. Ignis' proper Tenebrian accent wasn't built for swearing. _Dumbarses._ Dumb- _arses_. Noctis couldn't stop giggling._ _

__“He's lost it, Iggy,” Gladio said. “Put him to bed already.”_ _

__“Wait,” Noctis said, when he had enough composure to talk. “You're my Crownsguard, right?Just the two of you?”_ _

__“Just,” Gladio repeated._ _

__“Not like that. You're fast, Iggy, but not faster than a bullet. And you're tough, Gladio, but if someone sniped you in the back of the head--” Okay. Maybe it hadn't been the best time to bring up their premature deaths. They already thought he'd cracked. “I can just warp away but you two...” That probably wasn't helping. “We need someone who can cover the distance. Someone who isn't me. I can't look out for you and you can't look out for me if we're all having to watch out for a stray shot, right? We need someone else who can watch out for stuff like that.”_ _

__Was he imagining it, or did they look relieved?_ _

__“I'll look into the matter,” Ignis said._ _

__***_ _

__Prompto got another dinner invite and this time he went for it because Noctis couldn't make it. Nor could Clarus. So it was just Prompto, Regis, and one of the Crownsguard waiting outside the door. Apparently it was a working lunch for Regis. He scrolled through a tablet with one hand while he hate, occasionally stopping to tap a few keys._ _

__There was a bottle of wine in front of him. Prompto found things were easier if he had at least one thing to concentrate on. Eating was too mechanical, so he fixed his eyes on the distant bottle, trying to read the label._ _

__Regis glanced up at him. “None for you until you're older.”_ _

__“Oh. No. I don't drink.” It was empty calories and it was super gross anyway. “Just the only wine I've ever seen anyone drink comes in a box.”_ _

__That earned him a smile. “And you eat all your vegetables too.” Regis gestured to Prompto's cleared plate. “Once at a gala Noctis someone sneaked a few flutes of champagne and caused quite a scene when he threw up over the Duscaen ambassador's shoes.”_ _

__Prompto's smile didn't come as easily as it used to when he heard a juicy story about Noct but at least it came. “Yeah. He's a lightweight.”_ _

__“Am I to infer from that there have been other occasions he's sneaked alcohol?”_ _

__“No! I mean-- I meant, uh...”_ _

__Regis just smiled and waved his hand. “Best to get acting foolish out of the way while you're young.”_ _

__Right. And it wasn't like Noct was out of control or anything. Just the occasional couple of beers at his apartment when he could sneak them past Ignis. Which was hardly ever._ _

__When they were both done, a maid cleared away their plates and brought out coffee and a tray of little cakes._ _

__“So, uh, what are you working on?” Prompto asked, once the maid was gone. Regis had once again returned to the tablet, his coffee growing cold beside him._ _

__“State matters, I'm afraid.” That was what they called anything that wasn't any of Prompto's business. “I apologise.” He turned off the tablet and gave Prompto his full attention._ _

__Didn't they call guys who were still hot at his age silver foxes? It was kinda overwhelming when he looked straight at Prompto. “Would you like anything else?”_ _

__“Yeah... you.” It would probably have been smoother if his face didn't heat up. And if he hadn't stuttered._ _

__“Excuse me?”_ _

__Okay. It was now or never. Prompto shoved his chair back. He hadn't meant to knock it over or scrape the legs across the floor but what was done was done. Regis was still sitting so Prompto leaned over him, seized his shoulders, and planted a kiss on him._ _

__Regis' mouth slackened for a second and Prompto thought maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. Then he was being gently but firmly pushed away._ _

__Regis looked stricken. Horrified, in fact. And it took about half a second for the weight of what he'd done to drop on Prompto._ _

__“Sorry!” he squeaked, turned tail, and ran. Right past the guard on the door. Right down the hall. He might not be good for anything else but he could run fast. Regis was yelling his name in the distance so Prompto sped up. He took every turn he came to and just kept going, like the embarrassment wasn't following him the whole way._ _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get heavy and then maybe get just a tiny bit less terrible.

Prompto ran until he couldn't anymore. Once he'd caught his breath, he realised he had no freaking idea where he was. He hadn't known the palace well to begin with and the walls had all blurred past him. No way he was gonna find his way back to his room on his own. It was right next to Noct's and it wasn't like they were gonna sign post “the prince sleeps here, assassins take a right”.

Crap.

He picked a direction and walked in it. Surely something would seem familiar eventually. How big was the palace anyway?

“You there!”

Huh? Him? Prompto turned to find a guy in a Kingsglaive uniform. Shit. Was he allowed in this part of the palace? Was he gonna get scolded? Or arrested?

“Are you lost?”

Oh. “Kinda...”

The man was older. Not quite as old as Regis but his hair was greying and he had the same kind if nice, crinkly blue eyes. 

“Where were you heading?”

Where _was_ he heading? Is he went in the direction he'd came, he'd probably run into Regis again. Yeah, no thanks.

“Are you with the trainees?” the man said.

“Yes!”

So the man – Viribus, he'd said his name was – took him down to the training suite. Prompto ended up doing drills with the other Kingsglaive wannabes. They ran laps. Practised sword strikes. Did rolling, dodging, and break-falling. It was mindless and gruelling but gods it felt good to do something other than mope around. And when he was thinking about the instructor yelling at them to keep up or how much his arms hurt, then that left no room in his head for all the awful stuff that lived there now.

By the time it was over, he was about ready to collapse into bed. Maybe he was even exhausted enough for one night of uninterrupted, nightmare free sleep. Viribus must have stuck around to watch the training because he was waiting outside when Prompto and the actual trainees filed out.

“Not bad,” he said. “You've got stamina, kid.”

Why did everything make Prompto blush? Maybe he should try and catch a tan so it would be less obvious. “Do you, uh, do you wanna get a coffee or something?”

For some reason Viribus found that funny. “Don't you wanna go back to the dorms and rest up?”

“Nope. I'm all good.” He did a jumping jack to demonstrate. “See?”

Viribus laughed. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

The instant they hit a quiet corridors, Prompto dragged him into the first empty room he saw. Some abandoned meeting room that still had cup rings and ink stains on the table. He grabbed Viribus' shirt with both hands, dragging him closer. He didn't know why he wanted this. Surely he shouldn't want to touch or be touched by anyone after what had happened. But his body barely felt like his own anymore. And it was different if he wanted it? Right?

He wrapped his arms around Viribus' neck and went for it.

Viribus was a lot more receptive than Regis had been. They'd barely locked lips before their tongues were in each other's mouths. Prompto had no idea what he was doing but Viribus didn't seem to mind, even less when Prompto wrapped his legs around him. He took Prompto's weight easily. He was huge and broad compared to Prompto, muscles shifting under his uniform as Prompto pressed into him.

“Hey,” Viribus said, breaking from the kiss. “What do you like?”

Prompto couldn't manage anything more coherent than. “Huh?”

“What do you want to do? I'm fine with this if that's what you want, or if you want more...”

Right. This was about him. What he wanted. Not what someone took from him. “Can I... uh?” He'd have thought after everything – _nope, don't think about that_ – he'd have been less awkward about this stuff. “CanIhaveablowjob?”

“Hell yes.”

Viribus was way keener than Prompt had expected. He laid Prompto down carefully on the table, bracing his back and head the whole way. The motion rucked up his shirt and he thought about the faint stretch marks on his stomach only really visible to him now. Hard to be self-conscious about that when he'd had a group of guys commenting on his pretty little pink hole. He froze for a second when Viribus' fingers brushed the exposed skin there.

Viribus backed off immediately, dropping his hands to his sides. “You okay, gorgeous?”

“I'm not--” _Learn how to take a compliment_ , Noct always said. And it was weird that his brain jumped to protest that rather than explaining his reaction. He hadn't expected Viribus to be like that. Had expected Viribus to just grab his hips and do what he'd said. “Yeah. I'm good. Sorry.” _Just do it, already_.

Viribus didn't make any move to touch him again. “You sure?”

Prompto propped himself on his elbows. Viribus was flushed, breathing hard, his cock looking achingly full in his tight uniform pants. But he still didn't reach for Prompto again. Prompto had a faint heat in his cheeks but he wasn't doing any of that. His breathing was normal. He wasn't hard.

“I want this.”

_Do it. Pin me down. Take whatever you want._

Viribus moved closer but not to touch him. “You don't have to prove anything to me and you definitely don't have to rush into anything.”

Too late for that. That was his first kiss – his first apart from rough hands gripping his chin, saliva mixing with the tears from his watering eyes. “I'm sorry.” _Why wouldn't he just fuck him or whatever he had wanted when he waited outside that training room?_

Viribus chuckled in a fond way, like he was looking at a puppy just growing into its legs. Another thing that reminded Prompto of Regis before he'd well and truly fucked that up. He kissed Prompto on the forehead this time. “You don't ever have to apologise for not wanting to fuck someone. You got that?”

He had wanted to. Thought he had. And he wanted to get what Viribus was trying to tell him. But what if he never could? What if it was never normal again? He clung to Viribus' shirt with both fists, not ready to be alone just yet. Viribus paused for a moment and then just held him, letting Prompto tuck his forehead into his chest.

Just when he thought he could stay like this all day, Noctis burst in. And got completely the wrong idea.

“I'll kill you!” he screamed, giant sword materialising in his hand.

Prompto moved faster than he ever thought he could. He dived in front of Viribus. It surprised Noct too. He pulled back so suddenly the weight of the sword nearly toppled him over.

“Wait!” Prompto said as Noct geared up for another strike. “He didn't do anything wrong!”

“The hell he didn't. How old is he?”

Viribus groaned in the background. “Please tell me you're at least eighteen, Prompto.”

“I am! Well, I will be in a couple months.”

Viribus groaned again and that was the cue for Gladio and Ignis to show up, looking just as murderous as Noct. Then Regis. The room was getting awfully crowded.

“What's going on here?” Ignis said, the first to find his voice.

“This asshole had his hands all over Prompto!” Noct said. Not helping at all.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Prompto held both arms out, shielding as much of Viribus as possible in case anyone else decided to pull out a sword. “We only kissed.” He couldn't believe he was having to tell all of them about that. “He's nice. Cool. He's not in trouble, is he?” Prompto hadn't thought about that. That there might be consequences for anyone other than him.

“I thought he was one of the trainees, Your Majesty,” Viribus said. “But I still should have asked. That's no excuse.”

Regis swept forward, stepping in front of Noct and his sword. “We'll discuss what is and isn't appropriate behaviour in this palace later,” he said. “For now, wait outside my office.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Viribus squeezed through the others and their glares. Noct didn't dismiss his sword until he was well out of sight.

“I'd like a word with Prompto alone, boys,” Regis said.

“But--!” Noct started.

“You'll have plenty of time to speak with him afterwards.”

They cleared out. Noct only grumbled a little bit about it. Regis closed the door on all three of them when they lingered.

“How much trouble am I in?” Prompto said. Planting a kiss on the king wasn't, like, high treason or something, was it?

“You aren't in trouble,” Regis said. He pulled out two of the chair from around the table, one facing the other. “Sit.”

Prompto did. He crossed his hands in his lap and stared at those. He didn't dare look up when Regis sat in front of him.

Despite the insistence he wasn't in trouble, Prompto expected Regis to start berating him the instant he opened his mouth. What he got instead was a single, exasperated question. “What are you doing, Prompto?”

“I dunno.” He hadn't known before. He definitely didn't know now. “I just... you were being so nice to me and I... I thought...”

“Thought what? That you had to repay me in some way?”

There was less accusation in Regis' voice than Prompto had expected. It was hard to tell without looking at him but he sounded kinda... worried? “ _No_. Yes. I don't know. You're... you know. Handsome and stuff.”

Regis shifted, doing something, but Prompto still didn't dare look at him. “Prompto,” he said, carefully. “It isn't safe for you to... be amorous with older men. Not everyone will be so virtuous as to turn you away.”

“Shouldn't it be up to me?”

“Ideally, yes, but there's no such thing as a healthy encounter when the power differentials are that great. If you are to... experiment...” Prompto peeked at Regis, surprised to find him looking almost as uncomfortable as Prompto felt. “There are people much closer to your age to do that with, I'm sure.”

Yeah, right. People his own age weren't interested. The only guys he'd ever liked that way were straight and the only girls who'd ever seemed interested in him were way more interested in Noct. Who, in turn, wasn't remotely interested in them. Prompto had a theory that Noct was going to produce the next heir of Lucis by pulling it out of the armiger.

“Ignis is an attractive young man,” Regis said. “Or I believe Gladiolus is--”

“Dude! Please stop.” Things were complicated enough without bringing his friends into this and – _crap_ – he'd just told the king and ruler of all Insomnia to basically shut up. Only slightly weirder than the king trying to set him up with his friends. “Uh, please stop, Your Majesty.”

Regis let out one of those familiar chuckles and some of the tension eased. Enough that Prompto was able to look at him again. “I apologise for not composing myself sooner. I was simply surprised. Despite what the tabloid presses luridly imagine, it isn't often that handsome young men throw themselves at me.”

“Handsome.” Prompto pulled a face. He wasn't. He was okay. Acceptable looking. Not hideous but not anything special. The men who had... hurt him... kept calling him pretty. _Pretty little cocksucker. Show me those baby blues, pretty. Pretty fuckable little tight ass_. But Prompto didn't care what they thought about how he looked and it was probably just to headfuck him some more anyway. Viribus had called him gorgeous and seemed like he meant it. _Viribus_. “Please don't punish Viribus. He didn't do anything wrong.” He'd given gentleness that Prompto hadn't expected. Hadn't really wanted, if he was honest with himself. He'd thought he'd prove... what? That his body was only good for one thing? And he'd gotten a whole lot of other stuff instead.

“Quite aside from any other concerns, canoodling while on duty is against the rules.”

Canoodling? Was he serious? “It was my fault. I kinda...” Kinda pounced on him. “And he really didn't know how old I am.”

“Yes. Would you care to explain why he thought you were one of the trainees?”

“Might've sneaked into training,” Prompto mumbled.

Regis might have needed a stick to walk but there was definitely nothing wrong with his hearing. “That would be amusing if it wasn't a huge security breach.” He summoned a tablet, typed something into it, and dismissed it. “And no one noticed anything amiss?”

They hadn't seemed to. Prompto itched to get back to it. Focusing on nothing but the mechanics of his body. The way his muscles worked way too hard to think about anything but getting through it. It had helped that no one there recognised him. No one treated him like he was fragile. No one looked at him with pity or avoided his gaze. “Not that I could tell.”

“Interesting.” Regis summoned the tablet again, tapped a few times, then stared at it, occasionally 'hmm'ing. “Noctis raised a possibility with me,” he said, looking up from it eventually. “One I dismissed. Prematurely, I believe.”

“Yeah?”

“He said that you should be part of his Crownsguard. You're a little younger than we'd usually like to beging training but there have been exceptions. Gladiolus and Ignis, obviously, and also Cor Leonis.”

“FOR REAL?” Okay, that had been way too loud, but there was no way he was in the same league as Cor the Immortal.

A quirk of Regis' lips. “I assure you, I'm being nothing but sincere. You kept up with recruits several years your senior and with considerably more experience.” He turned the tablet toward Prompto. It was paused on a still of him during training. He almost didn't recognise his own face, turned deadly serious with concentration. “One thing the Kingsglaive tend to have in common, besides the basics like strength and adaptability, is that they've been through a lot and they keep going. You've more than proven yourself in that regard.”

Like he was anything special. He only kept going out of habit. Anyone could do that. But he wouldn't let that stand in the way of a good thing. “What do I need to do? Do I need to sign something, or--?”

“It's a heavy responsibility, Prompto. There's no need to rush the decision. There's a hefty training schedule. Daily sessions. And you'd be expected to return to your schooling once you're well enough.”

What had he done with his free time before now anyway? Stupid shit. Stupid, pointless shit. And maybe if he'd been trained up sooner he'd have been able to protect Noct in some way other than lying there and taking it.

“I don't need any more time,” he said. “Sign me right up.”

“You're absolutely sure?”

He'd never been more sure about anything in his entire life. “Sign me up.”

“You're absolutely sure?”

He'd never been more sure of anything in his life. “Sure I'm sure.”

“It means training every day. With Noctis.”

 _Oh_. And he'd been one hundred percent sure just a second ago. The thought of coming face to face with Noctis again drove a big old wedge of doubt through his skull.

“You've been avoiding him,” Regis said.

Prompto hadn't thought Regis had noticed, he was so busy all the time. But Prompto had hardly been subtle. “He saw me... He saw me like...” It brought an unexpected lump to his throat. Just seconds ago he'd been elated at the idea of being Kingsglaive, eventually being Crownsguard. He was sure his emotions hadn't been this unstable before. “How am I gonna face him knowing he sees that every time he looks at me?”

Regis' face softened. There was a soft tickle over Prompto's scalp as Regis lightly ruffled his hair. “I promise that's not what he sees, Prompto.”

“How do you know?” It came out petulant. Only because he was trying not to cry like a little kid.

“Because as much as he thinks he slips past me, I know my son, and if there's anyone he regards poorly because of this it will be himself.”

***

Prompto didn't cry. He did have to take a while on his own after Regis had left. Just until the feeling that he might burst into tears at any second went away.

When he opened the door, Noct was right outside it. Gladio and Ignis too, both trying to look like they weren't eavesdropping.

“Hey,” Prompto said, not quite keeping the strain out of his voice.

Noct looked pale and red-eyed. The way he did whenever he wasn't getting the sixteen hour sleep a night he needed to function. “Hey.”

“So it looks like, uh, looks like I'll be training with you guys.”

Noct smiled and it was so genuinely happy, so beyond all the awful stuff the last few days, Prompto almost fucking cried again. “Looks like,” Noct said. “Come on. I'll show you our training hall.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember how things seemed like they were getting better in the last chapter? Warningsfor suicidal ideation in this chapter.

Noct might actually have been the world's worst tour guide. Showing Prompto the training hall consisted of literally that. He pointed at it, shrugged, and sat down on one of the benches that surrounded the main training area: a ginormous rectangle room with padded floors. Gladio and Ignis had made themselves scarce with a few not-so-subtle suggestions from Ignis' direction that Prompto and Noctis should reacquaint themselves.

“We should talk,” Noct said. Although he looked like he'd rather disappear into the wall, chin dipped down into his chests and fingers gripping the sides of the bench until they were white-knuckled.

“Yeah.” Prompto stayed standing with his arms crossed tight over his chest. “Guess we should.”

Except they were both so quiet after that it was like neither one of them had ever learned to talk in the first place.

“I don't...” Noct tried, eventually. “I should have been able to _do_ something and I-- I understand if you can't... If you can't be around me.”

“ _Dude._ ” It came out strangled. “Dude.” _Come on, come on. Don't just dude at him like it's the only word you know._ “Don't.”

“I wouldn't blame you, you know? Who would want to be around the guy who just sat there and did nothing?”

 _You've got it all wrong._ Why was that so hard to say? “Is that what you think?”

“It's the truth.”

“That's what they wanted you to think!” Oh, there were the rest of his words, coming out in a shout. “They wanted to headfuck you while they actual-fucked me!” Prompto ignored Noct's full body flinch. “So you'd do what they wanted. They made me... they made me into something you can't respect. Something... something pathetic.”

Noctis did look at him then, eyes bright. “That's why you've been avoiding me?”

“You _saw_. That's all anybody'll ever see.” That was maybe too much of the truth because Noct's eyes filled right up.

He stood up and seized Prompto in the tightest hug he'd ever experienced. “You idiot,” he said. “You fucking idiot.” Gods, Noct failed hard at being comforting. “I don't think that. You're just-- Prompto. The same Prompto. The same Prompto you always were. You've never been pathetic. You fucking idiot.”

“You really suck at pep talks.”

Noct let out a shaky laugh, face still buried in Prompto's shoulder. Slowly, he seemed to realise that Prompto wasn't hugging back. That he'd gone rigid at the contact. Which was stupid. It was only Noct. And he'd been way more intimate with Viribus earlier. It was just being enclosed so close to them talking about everything.

Noct peeled himself away, swiped his eyes with the back of his hand, and shuttered any trace of expression away. “Sorry.”

Prompto didn't know what to do with Noct's guilt. He had nothing to feel guilty about but Prompto knew that didn't matter and if just saying so could change his mind, well, things would be a lot easier all round, wouldn't they? So he just moved on. “So. When do I get to start training?”

***

The answer was the next day. Ignis had printed Prompto a laminated schedule just the right size to fit into his pocket. He'd also given Prompto a new cell phone which he'd said was to help him keep track of the time but it was way fancier than it needed to be for that.

“Gladio's slow and sometimes leaves his back open,” Noct said, when they headed for the training hall, trailing behing Ignis and Gladio. “Don't get hit by either of his mutant fists. Ignis is fast and he can see feints coming from a mile away but if you pretend he's hurt you more than he has, he'll panic.”

“Good to know,” Prompto said. “Guess I'll have to ask them what your weaknesses are.”

They started with drills in the antechamber ahead of the main training area. Not much in the way of fighting. The main training area had been transformed into an obstacle course. One that Inis had painstakingly laid out the previous night. They'd do it as a relay. Noct and Ignis versus Gladio and Prompto.

“Great,” Noct said. “More running.”

“Hey man,” Prompto said. “The faster you run, the faster you get to deliver an ass-kicking.”

“Absolutely correct,” said Ignis. It was weird to see him in anything but a starched shirt with an ironed collar but Prompto guessed he was too sensible to work out in his usual smart suit. He was weirdly ripped. Something that wasn't obvious in his usual clothes but was kinda indecently apparent in a tank top and sweatpants. “Perhaps when we've finished Prompt can give you a crash course in the art of being gracious in the face of adverse conditions.”

“Already a teachers pet, huh?” Noct said, unmoved by this.

Prompto grinned back at him. “Those sound like the words of someone worried he's about to lose. Right, Gladio?”

“Hmmppph,” was all Gladio said. Prompto could almost see his thought process. _Ignis is fast_ , Noct had said. And Gladio was slow. Plus he was being paired with Prompto who – from Gladio's perspective – was a rank amateur. It probably seemed like he was at a big disadvantage.

“Any rules Iggy?” Prompto asked.

“There are no rules on the battlefield.”

Prompto and Ignis took up their stations at the halfway point, standing at the top of a long ramp. It gave them a good view of the other two as they took up position at the starting line. Ignis whistled to signify that they should start.

Ignis' mind must be a terrifying place. Some of the obstacles had clearly been designed to exploit Noct's weak points, whereas others existed just to trip up Gladio. Gladio struggled to keep his pace up over a series of padded blocks that varied in heights, his size and relative lack of flexibility making it hard for him to fit through the gaps. Noct warped right past them only to be hit in the face by a row of low-hanging punching bags (obscured from view by the tallest block) that Gladio bowled straight through.

 _Noct can't warp twice in a row._ Prompto filed that away in his big ol' list of his buddy's weak points and tried not to laugh as one of the swinging punching bags knocked Noct onto his ass again.

“You got it, Gladio!” Prompto yelled over the series of instructions Ignis was giving to Noct.

The punching bags continued to just glance off Gladio. _Gods, how strong was he?_ He only slowed when he reached the next obstacle. It looked like a slip and slide. A plastic tarp full of water. But as Gladio's feet landed in it, it proved to be worse than that. It was full of something way more viscous than water. Oil maybe? Extra slippy and extra slidey. Gladio and Noct wobbled their way through it.

They were even for a spell, then Gladio fell headlong into the liquid, giving Noct the lead until Gladio caught Noct's ankle and sent him down too. They both scrambled up, drawing even again until they both cleared that section and set their sights on the ramp.

Gladio's feet skidded the instant they touched it. He swore under his breath, gripped either side of it with both hands and hauled himself up. The muscles in his arms bulged with the effort of it. Noct just warped. He overshot it slightly but Ignis caught him by the arm and swung him to rest at the top of the ramp. Ignis hesitate. As soon as Noct's feet touched the floor, Ignis jumped, rolled and flung himself forward.

If Ignis' mind was terrifying, it was nothing compared to seeing all of him in action. He moved like a snake, shooting under a low, winding canopy like he was the one who'd been greased up.

“Go!” Gladio said, smacking Prompto's hand with his own as he reached the top.

Right. Prompto flung himself down from the ramp and slid under the canopy. It wasn't as straightforward as it had looked from above. There were more rubber blocks underneath set in twisting patterns so Prompto had to contort his body as he shimmied forward in the tiny space. 

When he squeezed out of it, Ignis was already way ahead of him. He'd climbed a rop ladder and was now swinging from one rope to the next.

Prompto about burst a lung catching up to him but he did it, to the point where they were both swinging from the same rope. Prompto had landed further up so he reached down, plucked the glasses from the bridge of Ignis' nose, and tossed them onto the mat below them.

“No rules on the battlefield, Iggy,” Prompto yelled as he jumped for the next rope.

“Indeed.” Ignis caught Prompto's leg and used his full weight to bring them both down onto the mat.

Prompto landed in a face-first sprawl, whereas Ignis landed on his feet. He stepped neatly over Prompto, collected his glasses, and sprung right back onto the ropes. He'd cleared them completely by the time Prompto managed to get back to his feet and was well on his way to clearing the course. The last obstacle was a set of hurdles of varying heights which Ignis was leaping over like an anak.

_Oh hell no._

Prompto hadn't been running five miles a day since he was twelve to get beaten now. His legs hated him for it but he caught up to Ignis again. He matched his pace right up until the end when Ignis put on a burst of speed and cleared the finish line five whole steps ahead of him.

Prompto collapsed onto the mat. “Dude! Where the hell does an advisor learn to move like that?”

Ignis appeared overhead and Prompto would be lying if he said he wasn't gratified to see him out of breath. “As I'm to accompany the prince wherever he goes, I deemed it prudent to to undertake Crownsguard training.” He offered his hand and helped Prompto up.

Noctis looked awed. “You almost kept up with Ignis.”

“Perhaps because he's self-motivated enough to exercise without the threat of a four hour economics lecture.”

“Yeah, yeah. That says more about your lectures than my motivation.”

Prompto laughed. He was winded and sore and tired but Gods he'd actually enjoyed that. He'd hung around with his friends and it had actually been fun. Just like before. Except before the three of them hadn't noticeably relaxed when they heard him laugh.

“Whatever, Prince Charmless,” Gladio said. “You spend less time mouthing off and more time putting the work in, you might catch up to Iggy one day too.”

Noct gave Gladio a friendly kick to the ankle. “You still lost, loser.”

Gladio caught Noct in a friendly headlock. “No thanks to you.” He delivered a super-strength noogie while Noct tried to twist out of his arms.

Ignis tutted and turned his attention back to Prompto. “Good work,” he said. “Impressive stamina.”

Prompto really was pathetic. A few words of praise and he teared up again. “What's next?” he said, turning away from Ignis under the pretense of watching Noct and Gladio. Noct warped out of Gladio's hold and reappeared right next to him to stick a wet finger in his ear.

“Lunch,” Ignis said. “After we've dismantled the course.”

“I'll just put it in the armiger,” Noct said, sprinting away from Gladio who was now hellbent on revenge for the wet willy.

“Noctis Lucis Caelum. You will do no such thing.”

***

They ate lunch accompanied by the gentle strains of Ignis lecturing Noct on how the armiger was not his personal storage closet. They ate in one of the more public cafeterias which was packed tight with the Kingsglaive, Crownsguard, and recruits. Since Noct was what Ignis called a fussy eater and Gladio called a pain in the ass, they had packed lunched, prepared by Ignis. As Prompto tucked into his, he couldn't shake the feeling that all of these strangers were looking at him. Whispering about him behind their hands. Was the occasional laugh that rang out directed at him? How many of them knew about him? How many of them had been there? Saw him afterwards? Had they gossiped? Did the whole citadel know about it by now?

“Prompto?” Ignis said. “Is everything all right?”

“Huh? Oh. Yeah.”

“Do you have any thoughts on what you'd like to specialise in?”

Specialise in? Right. It said weapons training right there in black and white on the timetable Ignis had printed for him. “Dunno.” It wasn't like he'd ever expected to have to fight anything.

“Try him with guns,” Noct said.

“That is up to Prompto,” Ignis said, severely. “But we are in need of someone who can fight at range.”

Guns, huh? Point and shoot. It couldn't be that different from a camera, right? “What do you guys use?”

Ignis and Gladio both had two specialities. Daggers and lances, and greatswords and shields reflexively. Noct fought with swords of any description, polearms, and shields. Hard to imagine that what with the amount of times Prompto had seen Noct laying on the couch, shovelling chips into his mouth with one hand whole the other gripped a controller. He barely had to work to stay skinny. Or at least Prompto had thought so.

“Can you not throw your daggers?” Prompto said. Why the hell was he trying to argue? They needed someone with range. They _needed_ him.

Ignis made a low, approving sound. “Occasionally, yes. Though I don't get quite the range or power that could be achieved with a gun.”

Right. They needed a gunner. So Prompto would become a gunner. Hadn't he always done whatever Noct needed?

***

Guns weren't all that common a sight in Insomnia being something more associated with the Empire. But apparently there was a royal infantry unit somewhere that specialised in both their use and sabotage. Ignis handed Prompto one of their training weapons. A working replica that fired paint pellets rather than bullets. Gladio and Noct headed to the opposite end of the training hall to spar with each other.

“We'll eventually progress to live rounds,” Ignis said. “But that requires access to the firing range and it's fully booked until Thursday evening.”

In lieu of that, Ignis had stuck target decals to the far wall. About a dozen of them were set at varying heights. “It would also be prudent to arrange tuition from someone more familiar with this. I've read about the basics but in this case reading is no substitute for hands-on experience.” He said that last bit as if it was a personal slight against him. “Look through the sight, squeeze the trigger, and keep your wrists flexible to allow for recoil.”

“Right.”

When he was thirteen and had shed most of the weight, Prompto had signed up for the basketball team. He'd figured practise three times a week would help him get in shape faster. Plus it would be less lonely than his daily runs and the punishing regime of squats, pushups, crunches, and burpees on his creaky bedroom floor.

He'd figured he'd run up and down the court, fill out the numbers. What he hadn't prepared for was actually being good at it. All of his hard work had given him muscles like the rest of the team. A body that could actually do stuff without getting out of breath and queasy. He could dodge around his team-mates when they played shirts and skins – he always made sure to be on the shirts side. He could get a basket from the opposite side of the court. Sure, it was hard work, but he got caught up in the thrill of not being useless. So caught up he didn't realise what it looked like to his team-mates. What to him felt like pure joy probably looked to them like showing off. And his awkward attempts at socialising probably seemed like standoffishness.

Some of the team cornered him after practise. Not all of them but enough. They were all huge. Gladio-sized at least. And he'd barely started his growth spurt. They beat him up so badly he'd missed three days of school while the bruises healed and never set foot on the court again.

But he'd only gotten fitter since then. Pushed himself harder. His skills could only have gotten better, right? This was no different from the basket at the other end of the hall. He just had to shoot it at the right angle.

He fired six shots. Five of them hit the bullseyes. One just slightly to the left where he'd overcompensated for the way his arms moved.

“Magnificent,” Ignis said, and talked him quickly through reloading the paint pellets. “Again.”

Prompto didn't miss this time. Ignis' expression was world's away from his old basketball team's. A little bit surprised but mostly beaming with pride.

“What will we be fighting?” Prompto asked.

“Ideally nothing,” Ignis said. “Bit if worst comes to worst, the Niflheim army and whatever armies they may have annexed. Daemons too, should we leave the confines of the city.”

Right. Basketball hoops and wall stickers were stationary. “So things that move. Stuff that fights back.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Come on. How long did you give me for this part of the training?”

“Two hours.”

“And how long's it been?”

Ignis checked his watch. “Twenty-two minutes. Very well. Your targets may not have moved but I do.” He summoned a long wooden stick into existence in a flash of blue light. “A shot to any of my vital organs means that you've won. A tap to any of yours means that I do. Manage to get me three times before your two hours are up and you get to choose what I cook for dinner this evening.”

“You sure you want me to mess up your nice clean outfit?”

Ignis flashed him his most terrifying smile. “We'll see, won't we?”

***

Prompto regretted his earlier smacktalk the second Ignis moved. He vaulted across the training floor, using the pole for leverage. He did _backflips_. Prompto had a hard time keeping track of him, let alone firing on him. But he hadn't lost yet either. Whenever Ignis closed on him, he could manage a shot or two fast enough that Ignis would have to roll or jump out of the way. And he was getting closer as he learned how to compensate for Ignis' movements. He almost grazed Ignis' side.

Only for something small and metallic to hit him in the chest in another blue flash.

“Guard, don't just fire,” Ignis said. "You'd be dead in a real battle.”

 _Dead_?

Prompto picked up the small, metallic object. A training dagger blunt on both sides. Ignis must have summoned it from Noct's armiger. _Dead_. A blunt dagger. It wouldn't even scratch. But there were razors in the cabinet above the sink in his en-suite. He had miles and miles of bedding and the ceiling fan was huge and sturdy. His window opened onto the courtyard five stories below.

_Dead._

Where no one could touch him ever again. Where he'd never be a burden ever again. Where he'd never have to think about the crush of sweaty bodies and the lancing pain deep in his guts and the gripping hands and his mouth swimming with come and his red raw throat and--

“Prompto?”

It took him a moment to register that that was his name. That Ignis had been calling it. It took a few more for him to realise that Gladio and Noct had stopped training and were hovering in his peripheral vision. All three of them looked in varying stages of being scared shitless.

“Prompto,” Ignis said, again. “Give that to me please.”

Prompto had the point of the training dagger pressed into the skin of his inside wrist, the skin around it already aggravated and red. He jerked it away and dropped it into Ignis' open palm.

“Told you it was too soon,” Gladio said. He sounded... far off, but shaky too.

“I'm okay!” Prompto said. They all looked at him like he was a daemon on the loose. Things were getting surreal again and he fought hard to hold on to the sensation of being tethered to his body. “I just-- I just got too into the training, okay?”

Yeah, none of them were buying that. Especially when he started violently at the half-step Gladio took towards him.

“Hey,” Gladio said. “You don't have to be. Okay, I mean. If it happened to Iris I'd--”

“To _Iris_?” A hot spike of rage impaled Prompto's consciousness to his stupid, panicky body. “What if it happened to _you_?”

“It'd never happen to me.”

“Gladio,” Ignis said, urgently. “A word.”

“No!” Prompto said, over Noct's groan. “Why don't you let him tell me in his own words why it could never happen to Gladiolus fucking Amicitia?”

“He didn't mean it like that, Prompto,” Noct said, drawing a little closer. “He's a meathead sometimes.”

“Sounded like he meant it.”

Gladio's face reddened. “I just meant cause I'm--”

“ _Cause you're what_?” Gods. Prompto was going to explode. Like a tin can in a microwave. His insides so hot and squirmy they'd pop the skin right off his bones. “What's so different about you that you're magically unrapeable?”

Noctis flinched again. Ignis was saying something. But Prompto's whole world had narrowed to Gladio and his stupid big mouth.

“I'm twice your size,” Gladio said.

The yell Prompto let out ripped right up from the soles of his shoes. He launched himself at Gladio, fists first.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual harassment in this chapter.

Noctis didn't know why he'd also been dragged into his father's office. Apparently if there was trouble in his vicinity Regis automatically assumed he was involved. Prompt and Gladio were seated on either side of him, both glaring at opposite sides of the room. Gladio had a split lip. Prompto was completely unscathed because after that first lucky punch, Gladio's only contribution to the fight had been to shield his face with his hands while Prompto wailed on him.

 

That had been... pretty bad. Noctis couldn't think of a time he'd seen Prompto angry before. Let alone snap like that. He might have really hurt Gladio if Ignis and Noctis hadn't dragged him off him. He'd still been lashing out when Ignis and Noctis struggled to restrain him.

 

And that was the lovely scene Clarus had walked in on. His son bleeding on the floor while Prompto bayed for more. He'd ordered everyone except Ignis up to Regis' office. But now they were there, both he and Regis seemed at a loss as to what to do with them.

 

_Not this_. Noctis could have told them. Not hauling them in to see the grown-ups like that time he and Prompto had been caught skipping class. Whatever was going on with Prompto right now was way bigger than that. The way he'd just stood there holding Ignis' dagger to his wrist like he'd just had a breakthrough... Noctis shuddered.

 

“What happened?” Regis said. For some reason he was asking Noctis.

 

“I don't know!” Which was the truth, sort of, but he also couldn't even try to explain it with Prompto right there. “An argument, I guess.”

 

“And how did this argument begin?”

 

Noctis shrugged. That was all he had. Gladio had run his mouth and turned an already delicate situation into a shitshow. But Noctis could hardly say that in front of Gladio's dad, could he? Regis appealed to Clarus, who rounded on Gladio.

 

“Well, Gladiolus?” he said.

 

“Just a dumb argument that got out of hand.”

 

_Because of you_ , Noctis wanted to scream. He knew Gladio. Knew he wasn't stupid. So how could he have thought saying what he'd said at that exact moment – or any moment – would help anything?

 

“And what was this argument about?” Clarus said.

 

“Yeah, Gladio,” Prompto said, moving his glare from the wall to focus it on Gladio. “What _was_ it about?”

 

Gladio said nothing. He couldn't even look at Prompto.

 

“Gladiolus,” Clarus said. “Are you going to answer me or do I have to get the whole story from Ignis?”

 

Ah yes. Ignis. Ignis had been a responsible adult since he was seven years old. He hadn't been dragged into the office. Regis had naturally assumed Ignis wasn't involved in the same way he'd assumed Noctis was. Ignis had tried to join them but Clarus had told him he had work to do.

 

“It's my fault, all right?” Gladio burst up out of his chair, which fell over like it was just as shocked as the rest of them. “I started it. Now it's finished. So do whatever you're gonna do about it so we can leave.”

 

“Gladiolus Amicitia--” Clarus began.

 

“You know this is bullshit! You don't know how to handle this--” He jabbed a thumb at Prompto without looking at him. “You don't know how to handle it any better than we do. Are you two just gonna keep pretending nothing happened? Cause hauling us in here like a bunch of school kids doesn't make you look any more in control.”

 

Clarus took Gladio by the arm and dragged him into one of the adjoining rooms. Their raised voices could still be heard if not the actual words.

 

“ _Was_ it Gladiolus' fault?” Regis asked, in a more measured tone.

 

Noctis yanked his attention back from the door Gladio had been dragged through. “Kinda?” Prompto was staring at him hard enough bore holes in the side of his skull. “It was just a fight, dad. Did you and your friends never fight?” Hell, he was fighting with a whole empire right now. So he could talk.

 

“There was usually a reason.”

 

“Gladio was doing that stupid tough guy act he does. You've seen it. I bet you've thought about punching him too.”

 

Regis didn't find that funny. At all. “I would never harm any of your friends.” He glanced at the side door. Gladio and Clarus were only getting louder. “Is Noctis correct, Prompto? It was nothing but a silly scuffle?”

 

“Huh?” Prompto started. “Oh. Yeah. It was stupid. Can we go?”

 

“Of course. But you realise you can still talk to me if you need to. About anything.”

 

“Yeah.” Prompto was just a little too high-pitched. “Will do. Thanks.”

 

“You too, Noctis.”

 

Oh, he was included too, was he? Because Regis had never had time for him to just pop in and chat before. He acknowledged it with some indistinct sound. Apparently that was enough for him because Regis went right back to his desk and all the stuff that wasn't Noctis. Prompto shot out of the door.

 

Noctis lingered. Yeah, they had all that distant dad bullshit to work out but the way Prompto had frozen with that dagger was seared into his mind. He couldn't deal with that on his own. He couldn't deal with that at all. He had to tell Regis. Get him to make sure Prompto was never alone with anything sharp or-- or dangerous.

 

“Noct,” Prompto said. “You coming or what?”

 

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

Prompto rounded on him as soon as they were clear of the office. “Don't,” he said.

 

“Don't what?”

 

“Don't tell your dad about this. I'm not weak. I don't need your dad to look after me.”

 

“I didn't say you were weak!”

 

“Gladio did!”

 

“He didn't mean--”

 

“Don't defend him! You've all spent all this time saying it doesn't change anything. But he's just saying what everyone's thinking, right? That it happened because I'm-- because I'm me.”

 

Wow. How did this conversation go so badly? _Say something_. Something comforting. But he was so afraid of saying the wrong thing that he ended up saying nothing. And that was wrong too because Prompto's face hardened in a way he'd never seen it do before.

 

“Thought so.” Prompto turned on his heel. “I'm going for a run. Don't follow me.”

 

He really was fast. Noctis had to warp in front of him to catch up. “Please, Prompto. I don't know-- You're not weak. It could have happened to anyone. Gladio's just-- he's an idiot sometimes. I've beat him down in training before and Ignis beats him down all the time so it's not like size has anything to do with it.”

 

“So you're taking his side?!”

 

What? How was any of that taking Gladio's side? “I'm not taking anyone's side. I'm just trying to-- He's not a complete asshole. He didn't mean to upset you.”

 

“ _Upset_ me? He's supposed to be my friend! There are three people in the world that won't-- that won't make it worse. That's what I thought. But he thinks-- One of my friends thinks that I got... got _raped_... because I wasn't big or scary enough not to.”

 

“That's not—”

 

“So what did he mean by it, Noct? Huh? What's the magical explanation that makes it all okay?”

 

“It isn't okay.”

 

That didn't improve anything. “He doesn't need defending. He's bigger than all of us put together, right?” And this time when Prompto ran Noctis couldn't catch up to him.

 

***

 

It was hard to tell what was real and what was just him being jumpy. Were people really looking at Prompto more than usual? Looking at their phones and then looking at him? _Damn it_. He shouldn't have snapped at Noct like that. He was just being loyal, and wasn't that one of the things Prompto liked about him in the first place? _Did that guy just make kissing noises at him?_

 

Whether it was paranoia or not, Prompto needed to be somewhere else. Somewhere quieter. He broke into a run again and only stopped when he had such a bad stitch he was bent double from it. He'd ended up in the palace gardens. There were a few glaives hanging around and some others but nowhere near as many people as inside.

 

Okay. Some of them were definitely staring at him. Others obviously trying not to look. What the hell? Prompto leaned back against the wall, tipping his head back until he could get his breathing under control.

 

“Hey,” someone said, shoving a bottle of water in his face. “You look thirsty.”

 

Someone else sniggered about that. Weird. Prompto took the bottle and chugged it. Then sputtered when he realised how intently these guys were watching him. Who the hell were they anyway? Not glaives. All dressed in an unfamiliar style but recognisably fancy. Dignitaries from outside of Insomnia probably. There were five of them, all a lot older than him. The one who'd been speaking sounded kind of like Ignis. If Ignis had been snooty. Prompto wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and handed him the empty water bottle back.

 

Why were they looking at him like that? He was red-faced and stinky from the run. That in itself should have discouraged them from getting too close. But they were all deep in his personal space. They kept... he was sure he wouldn't have noticed this before. But they kept staring at his mouth. His collarbone. His bare arms.

 

He tugged his tank top up, hiding more of himself with his arm. “What do you want?”

 

“Now, now,” the first one said. “That's not very polite.” He put his hand next to Prompto's head and leaned, so Prompto was crammed even tighter against the wall. He had a stupid grey moustache like a walrus that moved when he talked. If any of his retinue cared what he was doing, they didn't say anything. “Are Insomnians always this unfriendly to visitors?”

 

The old Prompto would have hated that. Would have fallen over himself to prove that no he wasn't impolite and of course Insomnians were friendly. Wouldn't have recognised that look the man was giving him. Correction, that _all_ of them were giving him. It made his skin crawl. Why him? Why had they singled him out like this? Could they tell somehow? Was he gonna spend the rest of his life dodging people like this everywhere he went?

 

“Only the creepy ones,” Prompto said. Maybe Gladio was right. His voice might be steady but the rest of him was frozen. They were way too close. He wanted them _away_.

 

The man only snorted. “Creepy? What have I done that's creepy?”

 

Nothing he couldn't deny. Couldn't make out was Prompto overreacting. Not yet anyway. This was stupid. It was broad daylight. There were glaives everywhere. Regis would come down on this guy like a tonne of bricks if he did anything in his palace. So why was Prompto still frozen? “Leave me alone.” He said it firmly, at odds with how he was shrinking into the wall. _Damn it_. He should be stronger than this. Should push through them and forget about it.

 

“Now, my dear. There's no need to be so rude.”

 

My dear? What the fuck? “What do you want?”

 

A chuckle. “How would you like to earn yourself some gil young man?”

 

“I wouldn't.” This guy needed to get out of Prompto's face. Stop cornering him. Stop saying weird stuff. He was gonna lash out. He was gonna be sick. “Let me--” His breathing was starting to quicken in a way that had nothing to do with the run. Too bright. Too loud. He needed out. He needed out of here right now.

 

“Come now. Everyone likes money. Five hundred gil up front. Cash.”

 

He was gonna hit this guy. He was gonna throw up on his shoes. He was starting to wheeze. Why couldn't he move even though he felt like he was gonna implode? “I don't.” What the hell? That was a lot of money even after conversion? For what? His stomach bottomed out at the possibilities. “Leave me alone.”

 

“Young man, I've been more than generous.”

 

“I don't want it! Your money or your-- Or anything else.”

 

“Listen here–“

 

“Hey assholes!” Oh great, it was Gladio. Just what Prompto needed. “What the hell do you think you're doing?” The walrus moustache guy turned casual as anything. Although his retinue was a lot more sheepish, creeping back and trying not to look like they hadn't been walling Prompto in.

 

“My, my.” Walrus Moustache guy gave Gladio a slow once-over. “What do they put in the water around here?” Gladio coloured visibly. That was it. Prompto should have punched this guy. He was going to just as soon as his legs stopped shaking.

 

“Get lost.” Gladio grabbed Prompto's arm, yanking him away from the group of men. “He's busy.”

 

“This behaviour isn't very becoming of an Amicitia, is it Gladiolus? Nor is being so possessive. I merely didn't realise he was taken.”

 

“Get fucked,” Gladio snarled. He yanked Prompto forward again, forcing him to half-run to keep up as he sped away from Walrus Moustache and the rest of them.

 

Gladio had hauled Prompto a good way back inside the palace before Prompto remembered he could move under his own power. He tore his arm back from Gladio. “I didn't need your help!”

 

“Yeah, it looked like it.”

 

“I'm not weak!”

 

“I didn't say you were!”

 

Prompto bit back what he wanted to scream at Gladio. People were already starting to look after that outburst. He fought to keep his voice at a normal volume. “Just weaker than you, right?”

 

“Physically, yeah. Most people are. You're tiny. You're all tiny. You and Noct and Ignis. If I was there-- I shoulda been there.”

 

“You couldn't have done anything either!” So much for keeping his voice down. But was that seriously what Gladio thought? That if he'd been there, he could've stopped it? His ego was out of control. “They would have hurt Noct. You couldn't have-- You couldn't have done anything more than I did. That's your job, right? Protecting Noct?”

 

“Yeah it is! And I shoulda been there, protecting him. I shouldn't have _let_ you... You shouldn't have been the one who got hurt.”

 

That shut Prompto up. So that was it. That was what was up with Gladio. Guilt. Just like Noctis.

 

“That's...” At least being angry at Gladio had given him somewhere to direct the anger. Now he just felt empty. Why couldn't Gladio just keep being a dumbass? “I wouldn't want it to happen to you either. Or anyone.”

 

“Yeah. I know. Did...? Did Lord Rambly do anything to you?”

 

“Walrus Moustache guy?”

 

Gladio gave a humourless laugh. “He does look like a walrus. He's an asshole. Thinks he can do whatever he wants.”

 

“He didn't. Do anything, I mean. Just talked a lot.” Why couldn't Prompto have just told him to get fucked the way Gladio had? Wait. He'd called Gladio by his surname. And Gladio seemed to recognise him. “Did he do something to you?”

 

Gladio coloured again. “Don't be stupid. I just know the type.” _Liar_. But if Gladio wasn't ready to talk, Prompto wouldn't push it. He knew better than anyone what that was like. “Look. I'm sorry about that dumb shit I said. You shoulda hit me harder.”

 

“Next time, buddy.”

 

Gladio grinned. “So... we cool?”

 

“Yeah. We're cool.”

 

***

 

Noctis could tell it was bad news the instant he looked at Ignis' face. He'd been planning to yell about the meeting with his dad, but he shut right up when Ignis wordlessly handed him a tablet. There were about thirty tabs open, most of them porn sites.

 

_What the fuck_?

 

The images were, thankfully, disabled. He was about to tell Ignis he wasn't into porn and that Ignis could assume he never wanted to know what Ignis was into either when his brain caught up with him. Ignis wouldn't be showing him this for kicks. His eyes drifted down to the comments, his throat going dry.

 

_Damn, who's the hot little twink?_

 

_Isn't that the blonde kid who's always hanging out with the prince?_

 

_Shoulda fucked him harder._

 

“It seems some of the culprits were broadcasting to their phones. We've been suppressing the images and videos twenty-four hours a day,” Ignis said. “I've been overseeing it all, as have Regis and Clarus. But it requires a full team and just one slip-up...”

 

This couldn't be for real. There was no way this was happening after everything else. “ _What_ images? What videos?” Maybe he meant something else. Maybe this was a security breach or something. Maybe he didn't need to freak out just yet.

 

Ignis couldn't say it. He cast his eyes down for a while, then rallied. “The images of Prompto. We can get the-- the content removed from anywhere that hosts it but we can't do a thing about downloads to private computers except punish anyone who we discover has downloaded it. The numbers for that are... troubling.”

 

“Does my dad know about this?”

 

“I've appraised him of the situation.”

 

“So what the fuck do we do?”

 

“We...” Ignis took the tablet from Noctis' white-knuckled hands. “We're doing all we can with regards to stopping the spread of it. What we don't know is whether we should tell Prompto. He has quite enough to deal with at the moment. You know him best. What do you suggest?”

 

“Me?” Why the hell would he have a clue what he was doing? “I'm-- I don't--” This was too much. No. It had started it as too much. This was just cruel. Why did the astrals just sit up there and let shit like this happen? “No. Don't tell him. Not yet. When he's... when it's less raw. Then we'll tell him.”

 

“Understood. I must get back to this. Noct. Are you all right?”

 

What kind of question was that? “Are _you_?”

 

Ignis hesitated, then pulled Noctis into a tight hug. “It's nothing any of us can't overcome. Prompto included. We'll get through this, Noct.”

 

Noctis made a strangled noise into Ignis' shoulder. _How though_? “I'm okay.” It wasn't _his_ attack being broadcast to half of Insomnia after all. “You're right. We'll get through it.” He swallowed his reaction back. That was right. He had to be okay. Because if he wasn't, how could he expect Prompto to be?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's back? And very tired/busy. Sorry for how long this chapter took and for the lack of replies to comments. I do appreciate every one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for sexual harassment in this chapter.

Another fucking day. Waking up again with his heart racing and drenched in sweat, pinned to the mattress until he realised where he was. Just one of the spare rooms in the palace. It was empty and safe. Empty and safe. Safe enough for a toddler, now. When Prompto had went to bed everything sharp had been removed from the room. Locks had been added to the windows. His bedding had been replaced with some material that wouldn't tear into strips no matter how hard he pulled. The bathroom mirror was gone. There weren't even any cleaning supplies. Ignis' doing, he assumed. He couldn't think of anyone else who'd be that thorough.

 

It was just before five a.m. He'd turned in at eight, happy just to get away from the stares from strangers and the possibility of running into that weird Lord Rambley guy. He had a quick shower. That was something Ignis had missed. He could drown himself in the bathtub. But the thought of putting that much effort into anything just made him feel tired again despite the nine hours sleep. And speaking of Ignis, he'd probably be awake now and know where Prompto could get coffee and breakfast.

 

The royal suites were kinda eerie at this time in the morning, with blue-grey light filtering through the halls and the only signs of life the guards stationed every few feet. They turned their heads as Prompto passed like enchanted statues but otherwise didn't do anything. There was distant typing beyond the door to Regis' office. Prompto paused there, listening. Regis hadn't been angry about the kiss but... Regis had spent all that time caring for him and Prompto had rewarded him like _that_. When Regis obviously hadn't been interested. Obviously hadn't wanted it. Maybe Prompto was sicker than he'd thought. He wrenched himself away from the door.

 

Prompto didn't hear anything more until he got to one of the stairwells.

 

“--If you don't want this to escalate, I suggest you leave.” Was that _Ignis_? It definitely sounded like Ignis, just way more heated than Prompto had ever heard him.

 

“You impudent little bitch.” A thump. A gasp. A groan. Prompto pelted down the stairs before he could hear any more.

 

It was one of Lord Rambley's retinue. One of the bigger ones that Prompto had assumed was a bodyguard. He had a bust nose. And Ignis had... Ignis had... Every detail seeped into Prompto's brain in a flash. Ignis had coffee spilled down his front. A smashed mug lay in splinters at his feet. It must have been scalding hot because patched of Ignis' skin were still bright red. His shirt had been ripped open to the waist, buttons lying in the pool of coffee. His fly was open too. His glasses were gone but there was a deep imprint of the frames on his face.

 

Prompto's vision whited out like a ring flash had gone off in his face. Like that time with Gladio, except this time he caught the man by surprise. He launched at him like a coeurl, both fists flying, throwing his whole body weight into them the way Ignis and Gladio had been teaching him. It caught him totally by surprise, before he could defend, knocked him off his feet as he tried, belatedly, to shield his face. Prompto's fists crunched into his already broken nose. And he kept punching. His eyes. His nose. His cheekbones. Anything he could turn to pulp under the flurry of his fists. He thought he might be screaming something but his head was too full of white noise to make sense of anything but beating the ever-looking-shit out of the man who'd tried to hurt Ignis.

 

Then he was being pulled away, arms pinned upwards. “DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” he screamed, flailing his legs, trying to overbalance his attacker. The man on the floor was spasming Alive but not getting up any time soon.

 

“Please.” It was only Ignis. “Please, Prompto. You need to calm down.”

 

Weirdly, he did. It was hard to hear Ignis' voice and not be calm. And the man's face was swollen and bruised. Deformed now. Prompto bit back the urge to kick him now he was down. “Ignis? Are you okay, dude?”

 

“I'm quite all right.” Ignis released his arms. “I'll clean this up. Go about your business.”

 

“Ignis...” Yeah, so Ignis could protect himself. And he probably hadn't needed Prompto to flip out like that. But his clothes were still all messed up and even if this guy hadn't succeeded in... He'd definitely tried. “We need to tell Regis about this.”

 

“Regis? That won't be necessary.”

 

_Damn it._ Prompto only had to look past the level tone of Ignis' voice to see how shaken he was. He still hadn't tidied himself up and he was pale, his eyes weirdly unfocused. Prompto spotted his glasses lying on the floor and handed them over. “He can't just go around grabbing you! We need to tell someone.”

 

“I appreciate the concern, Prompto.” Ignis slipped on his glasses and actually, visibly pulled himself together, hiding the distress under his normal serious Ignis face. Like a bath bomb dissolving in water. “But there's no need to make a fuss. I can't run to his majesty every time a guest is a little forward with me.”

 

_A little forward? Every time? What the fuck?_ This was getting surreal. Ignis was talking like someone had ordered the wrong flavoured canapes while that fucking perv was lying on the floor next to their feet making little bubbling noises. “That's not--”

 

“You won't get into any trouble. I'll make sure of that.”

 

“It's not me I'm worried about!” Ignis was supposed to be smart, wasn't he? “He tried to-- You can't just--”

 

“I'm fine,” Ignis said, automatically.

 

“Ignis, no. He could have-- He could've really hurt you. He might do it to someone else.” That got a reaction. Yeah, this was an exercise Prompto had been doing with his therapist. Every time he said he should have done something, she made him imagine the same scenario with someone else. So he could see that it was irrational for him to judge himself for something he wouldn't judge others for. “Would you think it was no big deal if he did it to Noct?”

 

What little colour he'd had left drained from Ignis' face. “Noct? No. I-I see what you're saying but I'm...”

 

“What? You're not as important as Noct? What if it happened to Gladio then?”

 

“I wouldn't... That's--”

 

“Come on.” Prompto seized Ignis' arm and towed him along to Regis' office. He clutched his shirt closed over his chest but otherwise didn't resist, obviously still too dazed from the attack to do much about it. He didn't seem to realise where he was until he was sitting in front of Regis and Clarus while they fussed around him. Some horrible, awful part of Prompto was actually jealous about that. But it was a small enough part that he could ignore.

 

“This isn't necessary--” Ignis began.

 

“One of Lord Rambley's staff or whatever they are attacked Ignis.” Prompto hoped Ignis didn't hate him for this but he'd seen how edgy Gladio had been too. Someone had to stop them.

 

“Attacked him?” Regis' eye wrinkles deepened as he examined Ignis. “Ignis?”

 

Ignis nodded, finally regaining enough sense to button up his shirt. “He-- The man who...” It was weird seeing Ignis struggle for words. Almost as unsettling as the bruise blooming on the corner of his mouth. “He is immobilised in the west wing kitchen's servant access staircase.”

 

“Clarus--”

 

Clarus was already heading for the door. “On it.”

 

When he'd left, Regis spoke again. “I'm sorry, Ignis, but I need you to go over what happened. I'll record it so you only need to tell me once.” He made a tablet appear in a flash of blue light. “We'll gather CCTV footage too but your testimony would help a great deal.”

 

“T-testimony? I don't want there to be a huge fuss.”

 

“I will not stand for anyone assaulting my staff. We can do without your testimony but he may lie, as the guilty party tends to in these situations, and your version of events will be compared to his and the footage. Can you do this, Ignis? If you can't, no one is going to force you. It's up to you.”

 

“I can, Your Majesty.” Ignis didn't speak for a while still. Prompto squeezed his shoulder. He leaned into it, then took a deep breath. “I was returning to my office with a cup of coffee. I shut the kitchen side door and heard someone behind me. I tried to turn to inform them that this area was off limits to guests but they pressed against my back, pinning me to the door. He proceeded to-- to--”

 

“It's all right, Ignis. Take your time.”

 

Ignis swallowed a few times. His mouth formed shapes but no words came out. He glanced at Regis, then back at his knees, fingers twisting in the material of his trousers. “He fondled my genitals through my clothing. I froze up and he...” Another swallow. “Put his mouth against my neck and began to undo the fastenings of my trousers. I thought there may have been a misunderstanding of sorts so I turned in his grip, which was when I realised it was Lord Ainsley. I attempted to tell him that it was not welcome and he tried to kiss me on the mouth. I panicked and threw my coffee over us both.” He hesitated, glancing at Regis again. “I know I shouldn't have--”

 

“You aren't in trouble, Ignis. Go on.”

 

“I told him to stop but he slapped my face hard enough to dislodge my glasses. Again, he pushed me against the door and ripped open my shirt. He made some... some _remarks_ about my body and touched my... my rear. I struck him, breaking his nose, and he struck me back. My apologies but I find it difficult to recount what happened after that as there was a struggle until--”

 

“I heard them,” Prompto said. “And I hit him. A lot.”

 

Regis tapped the tablet a few times, face grim. It grew even more darker as he watched something, the light of the screen flickering on his face. “The security footage aligns with what you've described. Ordinarily, someone would have heard the ruckus but we're stretched a little thin at the moment thanks to a--” He stared at Prompto, brow creasing for a while. “Another security incident. I'll see to it that Lord Ainsley is dealt with. Relax for the rest of the day, Ignis. I'll call you if I have further need of you.”

 

***

 

Ignis tried to shake Prompto off after they'd talked to Regis but Prompto kept on his heels.

 

“Prompto, I am fine,” he said. “Not that I don't appreciate the concern but I have work I must get on with.”

 

“Regis told you to relax.”

 

“And that was very kind of him but it's unnecessary.”

 

“Ignis--”

 

“Prompto. I do not need you to babysit me!” Ignis winced at the tone of his own voice. He didn't even give Prompto a chance to respond before he regrouped. “I'm sorry. That was uncalled for.” He touched the corner of his mouth, where the bruise was. Maybe surprised that it was tender? Prompto had been too. Amazed at how many bruises he had all over his body. He hadn't even felt them, lost in all the other more intense pains.

 

“You wanna get cleaned up?” Ignis was still drenched in coffee. And he had some of Lord Ainsley's blood smeared on his knuckles. Prompto did too, come to think of it.

 

“Yes. I think that would be wise--” Ignis stopped as Prompto followed him. “I don't require your assistance.”

 

“You might not need it but you're getting it.” Ignis might be good at hiding it but Prompt could tell he was still shaken. Besides, Lord Rambly and the rest were still around, and who knew what else they might do?

 

Ignis sighed but he didn't try to get rid of Prompto again and led him to his rooms. They were pretty much what Prompto had expected. Pin neat. Lots of books. Ignis disappeared into the bathroom for a while and came out clean with fresh clothes and brushed hair, the bruise the only sign that anything out of the ordinary had happened.

 

“Do people...?” Prompto shouldn't ask. It was a shitty thing to pry about after what just happened but he kept thinking about people being “forward” with Ignis. The way Gladio's face had turned red when Lord Rambly leered at him. “Do people do that kind of stuff to you a lot?” Prompto wouldn't have thought about that before. But Ignis was polite and helpful and probably seemed like an easy target to people like that. And there were too many people like that in the world.

 

“No. It's usually insinuation at worst or the misconstrue my duties to His Majesty or to Noct as... something they are not. Most are dissuaded by a firm no. The ones that are more insistent soon learn that I'm not the pushover I might appear. Besides, Clarus, Regis, and Gladio have quite the protective streak. As I'm sure you're aware.”

 

“You don't seem like a pushover. To me, I mean. You're always doing those awesome back flip things and you're, like, fast, and weirdly ripped. And-- You're strong, is what I mean.”

 

Ignis gave him one of his rare, reserved smiles. It felt like an age since he'd last seen it. “As are you.”

 

That caught Prompto somewhere tender. Somewhere he hadn't realised was hurt. _Strong_. His eyes welled up. He wasn't strong. Those men had broken him. Broken something small but essential that had let him function in the world. He was like a camera with a broken shutter button. Fine on the outside but useless.

 

“Prompto? What's wrong?”

 

“Nothing.” He knew Ignis didn't believe him and his voice was so choked, he couldn't have convinced him anyway. But Ignis didn't pry. Didn't push. Just let him get himself back under control until his voice was steady again. “Hey. Can I ask you something?”

 

“Anything.”

 

“Are you...? Do you, you know?” Gladio talked about girls all the time. He was good with them. Girls liked Noctis and would try to talk to him in giggly groups but he cared more about fish than any of that stuff. And maybe it was just that Ignis was more private but there was a big question mark over his head when he tried to think about what Ignis might like. He'd never mentioned anyone. And maybe there was a reason for that. “Do you like men?”

 

“Right. Cause I kinda... I thought before I might like both? There were guys and girls at school I really, really wanted to, um, kiss. And stuff.”

 

“Perfectly normal.”

 

“Do you, um...?”

 

“Exclusively men.”

 

“Do you think that's why...?” Prompto's mouth was dry. A lump in his throat. He forced the words out around it. “Do you think they could tell and that's why they did that stuff?”

 

“Absolutely not.” Ignis had been straightening a row of books, he stopped that to sit down next to Prompto. “I'm aware that there are certain stereotypes but you cannot tell a person's sexuality by looking at them. And even if that were the case, that would not be an invitation to do what they did. There is no excuse and no justification. None.”

 

“But I... I fantasised about stuff like that.” When he could still enjoy touching himself without feeling sick. He'd thought about it all the time. What a cock would be like in his mouth. In his throat. In his... Inside him. He'd even tried with his fingers once and he'd _liked_ it. “I even thought about saving up for--” Gods, why was he telling Ignis this? Confessing, really. Showing Ignis how dirty he really was. “For a toy. So I could feel what it was like.”

 

“Again, that's perfectly normal. Everyone has fantasies.”

 

“Even you?”

 

Ignis dipped his head and adjusted his glasses. “Of course. And they don't make me any more deserving of punishment or degradation than they do you or anyone else. You should have had the chance to explore them with someone worthy of you.”

 

He knew that. The rational, awake part of him anyway. But the part of him that lurked until his thoughts were alone and unguarded insisted that if imaginary Prompto hadn't been so slutty, they'd never have done those things to him. “It-- It hurt.” Like he'd been pierced. Like they were ripping him open. Like his bowels would rupture all over that fucking table. “Is it always like that?”

 

“No. What they did was an act of torture. Of violence. If you were intimate with someone else, there are steps you would take to make it painless.”

 

Ignis blushed and focused on a spot on the opposite wall. “Yes. You employ lubricant and your fingers to loosen and relax the, ah, area. You can do that yourself or your partner can assist... as part of foreplay.”

 

Now Prompto was blushing too. He could imagine Ignis doing that to himself. Imagine it way too well. He hated how much he liked the idea. _What was wrong with him_? He was on this weird feedback loop of excitement and disgust. “And you like it? Being, um...?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Wow, that would have blown his mind a couple of weeks ago. Blown his pants off too, probably. But now it was reassuring. Kinda. That Ignis had fantasies. Ignis enjoyed that kind of stuff. And he was still just the same Ignis he'd always been. Not some weird sexualised version of himself that couldn't exist outside of being used. Maybe Prompto could have that back some day too. The fantasies and the experimentation, not tainted by what had been done to him.

 

“Prompto. There's something I must tell you.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Ignis wasn't avoiding his gaze anymore. His brows were drawn together, the last traces of the blush on his face completely gone. “Noct advised me to wait but I believe that was a decision he made based on emotion rather than logic. It's better you hear it from me, now, rather than from a less salubrious source.”

 

Prompto's stomach bottomed out and fell through the floor. “Hear what?”

 

“Some footage has emerged of-- of--”

 

The way Ignis' voice caught, he knew what it was going to be. But Regis had said this wouldn't happen. Footage? Were there videos? He hadn't even seen them doing that. He'd seen the camera flashes and thought maybe there were pictures but there was even more? Maybe he was wrong. Maybe. Maybe it was something else. “Of _me_? Of-- Of--?”

 

Ignis gave one brief nod. “We are doing everything in our power to--”

 

Prompto didn't hear the rest over his brain clanging. His body rebelled and folded him onto all fours, puking all over Ignis' spotless floor.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

When Prompto had nothing left to throw up, he started to cry so hard his eyeballs ached. Each gulp of air tore out of his raw throat, his chest barely keeping up with the sobs. Ignis picked him and rocked him like he was a _toddler_ or something. Prompto tried to tell him to let go. He was gross. He probably smelled awful. But he couldn't get any proper words out around all the sobbing. Instead he curled his fingers into Ignis' lapels and buried his face in Ignis' chests. Tried to ignore everything else and breathe in the small, dark space that smelled only of Ignis fresh from the shower.

Prompto gulped and sniffed until he was less gross and snotty. He couldn't stop crying but eventually he found his voice again. “Why are you sorry?”

Ignis stroked his hair, absently. “I was... I was supposed to suppress the footage. We were working forty-eight hours a day to stop it spreading but I had other duties too. I took breaks. I had to sleep. If I had been more vigilant--”

Prompto craned his neck up to look Ignis in the face. “Don't be stupid.”

Ignis looked taken aback. “I'm sorry?”

“It wasn't _you_. It was them--” He wished he could stop sniffling. He realised he was still cradled in Ignis' arms like a fucking baby and pushed himself onto his feet. The news had hollowed him out but now the anger was filling him up again with something white-hot and buzzing. “I've seen memes and stuff. Once something's online you can't get rid of it. Did they--? Did they livestream it?”

Ignis nodded. He looked almost as sick as Prompto had. “That's how we found you and Noct. We were far too late.” He stood up too, hanging his head. “There are spare toothbrushes in the medicine cabinet to the left of the sink if you'd like to avail yourself. I'll clean up in here.”

Prompto did. Brushed his teeth and scrubbed his face clean until it was bright pink. There'd been a whole stack of toothbrushes in the cabinet. Ignis was probably the only person in the world anal enough to actually replace his every three months. He stared at his shiny face in the mirror for too long. Did he look different now? It was hard to tell. Maybe not to other people but his own reflection had looked alien for a while.

He turned away from it. From him. Ignis had cleaned quickly and thoroughly and now there was only a faint scent of lemon and bleach. There was a glass of water and some animal crackers sitting conspicuously on the coffee table too. And Ignis sitting behind it, chin rested on his laced-together fingers, face rapt with concentration.

He looked up when he realised Prompto was standing there. He gestured to the snacks. “If you can't stomach the crackers that's fine but you need to rehydrate.”

Prompto sipped the water. It had been chilled and soothed his sore throat. He drained the whole glass without realising. Ignis took it, refilled it from the spout on his fridge, and handed it back. 

“There are options,” he said.

“Options?” Prompto was trying to motivate himself to eat one of the crackers. His therapist had said it was important to take care of his basic needs. If he was tired or thirsty or hungry or lonely, he'd have a much harder time dealing with the more complicated stuff. It had made perfect sense when she said it. But in practice it was way harder.

“We could have law enforcement issue a press release about the footage. At the moment, most people who view it on pornographic sites seem to believe it's rough but consensual. If it becomes common knowledge that what they're seeing is actually a rape--” Ignis winced at his own phrasing. “I'm sorry. I should have--”

“That's what it was.” There was no way of sugarcoating it. Prompto was only vaguely aware that some people got off to that kind of thing. It wasn't something he'd been into. The porn he used to watch was gentler. And he'd been mortified with even that. It should be a relief, right? That people didn't want him to really have been hurt. Except he couldn't really dredge up any kind of sympathy for the people who'd watched it. Got off to it. “You think that'll stop people watching it?”

“Most people, yes. There are always some deviants. The issue is that a press release may draw even more attention to it. We're currently taking it down whenever it's reuploaded and the face that you're a minor gives us considerable clout here but...”

“It's like a really depressing game of Whack-a-Mole?”

Ignis gave a humourless laugh. “Yes.”

“What's the other option?”

“To let it run its course. As new pornography is uploaded for those who peruse it, it will fall in popularity and then, eventually, into obscurity. After which we may have better luck purging it in its entirety.”

“Popularity?!” He wanted it _gone_. Gone from the internet and gone from the memory of anyone who'd looked at it. But if waiting it out was better in the long-run, then...? “How-- How popular is it?”

“The numbers are...” Ignis took off his glasses and cleaned them with the hem of his shirt, rubbing the lenses over and over again.

“Ignis?”

Ignis faced him without putting his glasses back on. Maybe he was easier to look at when he was blurry. “From the data we've gathered it seems to be very popular among people who search certain keywords.”

“What keywords?”

“I don't think knowing that will help, Prompto.”

“It's me in the video! Words don't make any difference.”

Ignis shook his head. “As I said earlier, they believe it to be consensual but rough. That kind of content is rather niche from what I understand and there's a relative scarcity of it with male performers, and even less with performers who are as... Who look like you. So while it's not getting millions of views a day, there's significant traffic from people who are already inclined to watch these kinds of things.”

“How much traffic?”

“Depending on where it's uploaded... A couple of hundred to a couple of thousand unique views. That's relatively low. We were able to prevent it appearing on the major porn sites, at least.”

“So... what do you think is the best thing to do?”

Ignis fiddled with his glasses again, then finally put them back on his face. “I can't make that decision for you, Prompto. If it were me, I would lean toward the latter option. But it isn't and I don't that know that I could-- If it _were_ me, I would also struggle with knowing it was still available.”

Two thousand people at a time seeing it? His stomach roiled. If he'd had anything left, he'd have thrown up all over again. “I thought everyone was looking at me like... like they knew.”

“Unlikely, at least in the palace. We would know immediately if anyone was watching the content here. I personally ensured the team working on this consisted only of myself, glaives who were already aware of the situation, and the bare minimum of technical experts.”

“But... a dude blew a kiss at me?” He was sure he hadn't imagined that.

“A coincidence. You are an attractive young man.”

Prompto wished he didn't blush so easily still. “I didn't know they were livestreaming. I saw them take the photos but... I saw their phones get destroyed too. So how did it get out to everyone?”

“It was livestreamed to a private computer, which recorded and then distributed the content. We believe one or all of your attackers were part of a ring that produces such content and then distributes it via trades which are far less traceable than cash. We are currently tracking down every single member of that ring and working with the authorities to bring them to justice. It was one of these... individuals... who uploaded it in the first instance, thus allowing us to catch him.”

“So... you've been arresting people?”

“Not personally but we have caught an alarming number. So far we've caught sixty rapists, two hundred child pornographers, three hundred human traffickers, and various facilitators. Each one we catch leads us to more of them, all of whom were hiding under the radar until we began this.”

“All because of that one video of me?”

Ignis nodded again. “The men who attacked you were career criminals of a particularly nasty sort. Learning their identities and associates along with the upload revealed a great deal.”

“But they must have been doing this forever. How many people--” _\-- kids too--_ “--got raped before me and they all just got away with it?”

“Too many. It's a sad fact that there are too few resources available to help every victim.”

“So it's just because I know Noct that you're doing all this?”

“That is certainly a factor but it's...more personal. Even if Noctis were not the prince and Regis was not the king, they would still be doing everything in their power to help you. As would I.”

“I want to help too.”

“Help?”

“Yeah, help. Help you get the rest of the people in this sick ring. Leave the video up. Use it to find them. I'll do whatever. Whatever it takes to get them.”

“Prompto. I understand but it isn't healthy for you to be exposed to the kind of things that are a necessity for this operation.”

“So what is healthy? Crying? Hating myself? Thinking about people jacking off to what they did to me? I handled that, didn't I? It didn't make me pathetic and useless. I can help.”

“I don't think you're pathetic or useless.”

“Then why not?”

“Because you need to heal. Not to push yourself into situation that's stressful at the best of times.”

“How am I meant to do anything else knowing there's people out there who do that kind of stuff? And I could help catch them but I'm not _allowed_ because everyone's afraid of how I'll react to it.”

Ignis sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Against my better judgement, I will give you a chance. One chance. But the instant I even begin to suspect it's hindering your recovery, it will have to end. Is that clear?”

“Yeah, yeah. Crystal clear.”

***

Prompto was well-rested for once. Up at six a.m. Well-rested and alert. He'd prove to Ignis he could do this and they'd track the rest of those scumbags down. It'd be like those lame movies Gladio watched. A ragtag bunch of detectives cleaning up the streets of Insomnia. He blasted through his morning routine and fussed a little in the mirror, trying to look neat and professional. He was all pumped-up and raring to go right up until he entered Regis' office and came face-to-face with Lord Rambly.

Well, not quite face-to-face. He was talking to Regis. And Regis was smiling. What the fuck? Where was Ignis?

“Ah, Prompto,” Regis said, smile warming a notch. “Lord Rambly has agreed to assist in the matter of Lord Ainsley's transgressions since he isn't an Insomnian citizen this should facilitate-- Are you all right?”

“Where's Ignis?”

“Currently trying to convince Gladiolus not to take the law into his own hands. I sent Clarus along to deal with them both. They should be along any minute.”

Oh. Right. He should have realised someone would have to wrangle Gladio when he found out. Lord Rambly approached and Prompto started to drift. Why the fuck did this keep happening? Every time he was stressed. Every time something new happened. He just floated right out of his head. Lord Rambly stuck out a hand.

“Tobias Rambly,” he said. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance.”

What? Was he for real? Prompto's brain kept trying to drift. _No_. Not now. He wasn't just gonna float away and let his guy do whatever he wanted. He was here. He was in Regis' office. And part of Insomnia's problem was right in front of him. He forced himself to look Lord Rambly in the eyes and glared. “We've already met.”

His stupid walrus moustache twitched. “So we have. I don't believe I got your name, however?”

“My name? You want my name?”

“Yes. You do have one, I presume.”

“I--”

The door burst in. “This is bullshit!” Gladio announced. He was followed by Clarus, Ignis, and Noct pouring in like they'd fallen out of a clown car. “We should just get rid of him and tell those Tenebrian dicks it was an accident.”

Clarus laughed awkwardly. “Ah. Tobias Rambly. This is why we didn't earmark Gladiolus to be a diplomat.”

Lord Rambly waved his hand dismissively. “Youthful high spirits. My Gladiolus, how you've grown since I last saw you.”

“They do that,” Regis said. “One day Noctis was knee-high and I swear the very next he was looking me in the eye.”

But Gladio had frozen. “What's he doing here?”

“A member of his delegation needs to be prosecuted. We need his input on the matter.”

“Find someone else.”

“What has gotten into you, Gladiolus?” Lord Rambly said. “You used to be such a sweet boy.”

Gladio's face flushed and it was like time froze. All Prompto could see was that. Had Gladio ever blushed before in the entire time he'd known him? Let alone stalled like that. And Ignis had insisted he didn't want a fuss made. Would Gladio even be able to admit something like that had happened to him?

Gods, Prompto was such a hypocrite. He'd practically forced Ignis to tell Regis about the stuff with Lord Ainsley but he hadn't breathed a word about Lord Rambly.

“Lord Rambly came onto me,” Prompto said talking quickly into the stunned silence that opened up after him. He had to be like Ignis was. Calm, unemotional, report only the facts of what had happened. “And he wouldn't take a hint and Gladio had to get me out of there--”

“This young man is mistaken,” Lord Rambly said.

“Like hell he is,” Gladio said. “You and your buddies were all over him like a pack of yellowteeth.”

Regis definitely wasn't smiling now. Ignis had a hand on Noct's arm, stopping him doing anything hasty and Gladio was in a battle stance but not moving. Clarus however... A sword the size of Prompto's entire body appeared in his hands in a flash of blue light.

“I recall your party visited once before,” he said. “When Gladiolus was fifteen.”

Prompto almost had to admire Lord Rambly's guts. He puffed up like a wood pigeon. “Just what are you implying?” When he was only met with glares and Clarus' sword being pointed right at him, he appealed to Regis. “Surely you can see--”

“I see three people whose word I trust implicitly accusing you of wrongdoing.”

“You have nothing on me. Some wild assumptions and the paranoia of an urchin.”

An urchin? Seriously? “There's CCTV in the gardens, right?” Prompto said. “Can you get video of it? He asked me if I wanted to earn five hundred gil. He's probably gonna pretend it was for yard work or charity or something but I could tell it wasn't.” He told Regis the date and what time he thought it was.

Regis had his tablet in hand before Prompto could even finish speaking. “Surveillance corroborates that.”

Clarus tucked the point of his blade under Lord Rambley's chin, forcing him to jerk his head up. “Gladiolus told me he was ill and holed himself up in his room for a week. I wanted to believe it was just a teenage strop but there were signs-- What did you do to my son?”

“Nothing he didn't ask for.”

It was only Regis warping to shove Clarus out of the way that stopped him decapitating Lord Rambly. Lord Rambly tried to run, only to be stopped by Ignis throwing a knife into his calf. He jumped straight back up and met Gladio now armed with a junior version of Clarus' massive sword. Ignis came up on his other side, now armed with a lance. Noctis barred the door, standing there with a sword of his own.

Regis tried to restrain Clarus with his bare hands. He was just barely succeeding because of Clarus' obvious reluctance to lay a finger on him.

“Dad!” Gladio said. “You've gotta calm down. We got him. He ain't going anywhere.”

“The embassy will hear of this!” Lord Rambly screeched. He was purple in the face, holding the dagger in his leg.

“Clarus,” Regis said. “I understand your feelings but the annexed peoples need to trust us. We must deal with this within the law. And what the embassy will hear of, Lord Rambly, is the liberties you and your colleagues have taken here.”

“You--”

“Enough!” Regis cast sleep on Lord Rambly. “Clarus, must I put you to sleep too.”

Clarus closed his eyes for what seemed like an age. Then the sword disappeared from his hands. Regis released him.

“Prompto,” Regis said, making him start. “Gladiolus. Ignis. You need never suffer any indignity in silence. It is a king's duty to listen to his people and moreover my own personal duty to protect those close to me. I will deal with Lord Rambly and his colleagues to the best of my abilities.”

He and Clarus hauled Lord Rambly out of the room. Noct surveyed the blood on the floor, the things scattered from Regis' desk, the expressions on their faces. “The hell's been going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so, so much again for your comments and kudos. I know I suck at replying to them but I do read and appreciate every one.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: For mentions of minor OC character death, mentioned of rape, and mentions of violence.

9

Ignis took Noct aside in the hallway to explain things. He got all the fun jobs. Prompto turned away from that spectacle. He didn't need to see Noct the same way he'd been when Prompto first came to the palace. Helpless and very, very guilty. Of course, that only brought Gladio into his field of vision.

“It's not a big deal,” Gladio said, before Prompto could open his mouth.

“It's--”

Gladio winced. “I didn't mean it like that.” Sometimes it was hard to believe he and Ignis were part of the same retinue considering how often Gladio put his giant foot in his giant mouth. “It wasn't like what happened to you.”

Prompto managed not to freak. That whole thing was a sinkhole in his head but it got easier to circle the edges of it without falling in every day. “That doesn't make it not a big deal.” He didn't wanna be the standard for every bad thing thing that happened to him from now on, so his friends never told him when they had their own stuff going on. If Gladio even was his friend. They hadn't known each other all that well before this. Gladio was always on the other side of a gulf of age, class, and effortless charisma.

“Some old perv grabbed my dick when I was fifteen. Ain't like I've got any right to be traumatised over something like that.”

Prompto was beginning to rethink the effortless charisma thing. “You were a _kid_.”

“I was two years younger than you.”

But Gladio wasn't that much older, really. It was easy to forget that sometimes. Ignis and Gladio had always seemed so grown-up compared to Noct and Prompto. “Gladio. Come on, man.”

“I _said_ it's no big deal.”

In any other circumstance it would be a relief. Sex god Gladio who had girls hounded him all the time was just as dumb and awkward with this stuff as the rest of them. “It's cool if you don't wanna talk about it.”

Gladio huffed a short breath through his nose. “Pull up a chair, kiddo. I'm about to regale you with the the whole sorry tale of Lord Dicktouch and his Wandering Hands.”

“You don't have to--”

“Shut up.”

Prompto blinked. He'd been asking them to stop treating him like a delicate flower but he wasn't sure he liked this turnaround. And Gladio was looming suddenly, like he was about to crush him in one massive fist. He couldn't help but shrink back.

“I thought I was invincible,” Gladio said, slamming his palm into the wall above Prompto's head obviously harder than he'd intended to. “I was a fucking Shield, acing every test my dad and my trainers threw at me. Rambly had his eye on Ignis. Kept asking him about his family. His schedule. It was was all polite. All that high brow stuff Ignis is good at. But I can tell what's going on with Ignis under the diplomat mask. Every time Rambly was near him he wanted to bolt. I didn't get what he was up to. Thought it was him trying to find a way around Regis or something. But I could tell Ignis didn't like it.”

Prompto's mouth was dry. Gladio was walling him in but it didn't-- It would have scared him if it was a stranger but Gladio didn't scare him. He glanced at Ignis and Noct. They were having a heated argument of their own.

“Look at me,” Gladio growled. “Rambly kept on his bullshit. I figured I'd have a word with him. It wasn't like he could manoeuvre me politically cause I'm not involved with any of that crap.”

“But you keep such a cool head.”

Gladio gave him a withering look. “ _Anyhow_. I kept stonewalling him whenever he tried to talk to talk to Ignis. He asked me to move a desk in his room or some bullshit. I figured that would be ideal. I'd give him a talking to with no witnesses. Didn't even cross my mind he'd try anything like that. Thought I'd outgrown the Stranger Danger stuff with puberty. I was gonna warn him off Ignis. Threaten to break his fingers or something dumb. Except the second he got me in his room he started playing grab-ass and I froze. Didn't unfreeze until he had his hands down my pants. And instead of decking him like I should have, I just got outta there. That's it. The end. Happy now?”

“No.”

Gladio finally seemed to realise how aggressive his stance was and eased away. “You okay?”

“Are you?”

“Yeah. I am. I dealt with this shit years ago. Just didn't expect to see Rambly again. Was kinda hoping the Niffs got him.”

How? How could he be okay? “You never told anyone?” Prompto hadn't had the option. It was all out there for everyone to see. But how could someone keep something like this inside without imploding?

“That a problem?”

“No. Just... Not even Ignis?”

“No.”

_I thought I was invincible._ It was clearer every day why Gladio had made that stupid, horrible comment about being twice his size. “You can... You can talk to me, you know. If you need to. If you want.”

“I don't.”

“Would you stop being such a jock about this? We've all seen you reading crappy tween romances, you know. You don't need to keep up with the tough guy act.”

Gladio's expression flickered between murderous and amused. “You that worried about me, shrimp?”

“Yes. We all are. So stop pretending to be some macho asshole.”

“I'm not pretending anything. Why do you need me to be damaged goods so bad?”

Damaged goods. That was what he was, right? It shouldn't have hurt to hear it. Damaged. Broken. Everyone had to be extra careful around him in case he shattered. 

“Hey.” Gladio's voice had lost the hard edge. He laid one of his huge, warm hands on Prompto's shoulder. The warmth of it focused Prompto. Stopped him drifting. “I shouldn'ta said that.”

“You think?”

“It isn't... I don't think that about you. Hell, you're handling this better than--”

“Than you thought I could?”

“--Than I did. And that was just some bad-touching.”

That shut Prompto up, his anger evaporating as quickly as it had come over him. “You're still allowed to be upset about it.”

“Gee, thanks. But I am over it. Not that I won't enjoy every second of Regis taking down Rapey Rambley and the rest of the Bad Touch Brigade.”

“Cool band name. They can start one on prison.”

Gladio laughed and then Prompto was laughing but he didn't know whether it was verging on crying. Gladio's had an edge of hysteria too. Then they were just laughing. Too hard and too loud but almost normally. Holding each other up so they didn't shake themselves to the floor with the force of it.

“Have you two lost it?” Noct said, with such a deadly serious expression it only made them laugh harder.

Prompto tried to calm himself down, giggling when he let go of Gladio. “We just invented a new muscic genre. Jailhouse rapist rock.” Gods, it wasn't even funny. Why was he laughing so much?

Noct's face hardened. Ignis looked outright appalled. Somehow that only made it funnier.

“You really don't wanna see their instruments,” Gladio said, tears squeezing from the corners of his eyes as he belted out more laughs.

_Oh man._ Prompto's stomach hurt from laughing. He was gonna literally ROFL. “Stop.”

“You started it.”

“Both of you stop,” Ignis said, sounding so worried it sobered them both up. Kinda. “This certainly isn't a laughing matter.”

“Chillax, dude,” Prompto said, causing Gladio to snort with more repressed laughter. “We're good.”

“Yeah, Iggy. I'm always telling everyone you're not as much of a buzzkill as you seem. And here you are, murdering the buzz.”

“We have just put a man in chains for a serious crime,” Ignis said severely.

“Man, that's really gonna mess with his guitar game.”

Noct gave Ignis a helpless shrug as they both devolved back into raucous laughter.

###

Ignis and Noct were still eyeing them like they'd cracked for good when they sat down for breakfast even though they'd both calmed down. But Prompto felt lighter than he had in weeks. Ignis was right. It wasn't a joke. But it had lifted some of the taboo about talking about it. And it was easier to relax around Gladio now, his fat mouth aside. Maybe he was telling the truth. It had happened and he'd gotten over it. Maybe it was possible.

“Prompto,” Ignis said cautiously, as they were finishing up. He eyed Prompto warily. Maybe waiting for another laughing fit. “I need to brief you.”

If he hadn't already been sobering up that would've done it. “I'm ready.”

“I'll leave Noct in your capable hands, Gladio. Please be sensible.”

“You got it, Iggy.”

Despite how he'd gotten there, Prompto had been kinda excited about their base of operations. He'd imagined banks of monitors. Agents talking to other agents over headphones. At least one of those boards with things connected by red thread. Spy stuff. Instead he got a normal office full of harried-looking crownsguard busily hunched over tablets and laptops. They didn't look up at the new arrival.

Ignis offered him a seat in front of one of the most crowded desks Prompto had ever seen. “Mostly we liaise between departments so bureaucracy can't stand in the way of justice.” He picked up a thick, fresh file from the top of his desk. “The groundwork for us to do so is already laid at this point and we spend our time sifting through information and making connections. But occasionally someone will bring something new to my attention.” He waved the file. “This is either a new case or a massive lead on an older one. I've been meaning to distinguish between the two somehow but this all expanded so quickly I've never gotten round to it.” He opened the file and then snapped it shut. “Prompto. Are you sure this is wise? If this brings up bad memories for you...”

“Try me. What's in the file?”

“A new case.”

“Deets?”

“It's... You can stop this at any time without consequence or judgement.”

“I know, Iggy. I promise I will if I need to.”

Ignis swallowed and nodded. He opened the file and Prompto immediately saw why he'd hesitated. “These are the victims.” The faces of about a dozen young men looked back with forced smiles in their high school yearbook pictures. Or genuinely beaming with sports trophies. Squinting into the sun in family photographs. His age. They were all his age. “This has been on the news?” There was a hopeful lilt at the end of that.

“I, uh, never watched it.” The news was depressing. The war this and the war that. He'd tried not to even look at headlines.

“I see. This case has... It's not connected to the ring we're investigating but another boy has gone missing.” He indicated the last photo with his index finger. He didn't look like Prompto. Not really. He wore glasses and he had a kind of bookish look about him like Ignis. But he was blond and blue-eyed and freckled. And it was hard not to notice the similarities rather than the differences. “The police want to pool resources with us. We can focus our investigations whereas they must see to the smooth running of Insomnia.”

Prompto stared at the photo, trying to control his stomach while it rolled around inside him. “What happened to the rest?”

Ignis turned the file's pages rather than speak, revealing too many post-mortem pictures. Every one of them had a thick band of purple bruising around their necks. “From what forensics have determined, he keeps each victim for around a week. Two if he's particularly... Two sometimes. During that time he subjects them to repeated rapes and abject violence but leaves no trace of his DNA. The victims bodies have been cleaned by the time they're discovered.” Ignis flipped through the rest of the bodies quickly, landing on a written report. “Do you wish to continue?”

Prompto nodded. He didn't know if it just wasn't sinking in yet or if his weird brain was padding him from the real horror of it but this all only made him want to catch this animal more. “Yeah. I'm okay, Iggy.”

“All except for a trace of semen which he collects from the previous victim.” Ignis paused, waiting for Prompto's reaction. 

What could he say? That it was sick? They both knew that already. There was no point asking why either. Prompto knew more than anyone that sometimes things were awful for no reason at all. “Go on.”

“The police looked into the possibility that he worked at a sperm bank or fertility clinic in the vicinity of the attacks but they were thorough and found nothing conclusive. Their working theory is that he stores the... materials... somewhere private which could be as rudimentary as a home feridgerator. They do have the last locations of each victim and obviously the locations of the bodies. But police searches of the entire area turned up nothing useful and there are several thousand homes within it, all of each would require a warrant to search within. And that could still turn out to be useless if he is travelling outside of that area to commit his crimes then returning. Other than that, he appears to be a ghost. No one saw the victims leave with anyone. No one close to them has seen anyone out of the ordinary. And they each have watertight alibis for the crimes. The victims have no mutual friends, no shared schools or after school activities, no teachers, doctors, preachers or tutors in common. They have few shared interests even. Apart from their ages they aren't remotely similar. Our best guess is he picks them randomly and without any motive.”

“How long's he-- How long's the latest victim been gone for?”

“Two days.”

Two days. _Repeatedly raped and subjected to abject violence._ Two days. That meant they only had five more at the least to find him. “What do you need me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thanks so much for your wonderful comments, bookmarks, and kudos. I only have so much brainpower before I stop being able to word altogether so I appreciate you sticking with me even when I can't reply. And even though I take so long to update. Hope you enjoy this.


	10. Chapter 10

Maybe Prompto had seen too many detective shows but he'd expected more rooftop chases. More wild intrigue. Maybe some hard-boiled quips from Ignis. Definitely a lot, lot less admin. His eyes were dry and scratchy from poring over his screen for so long. He glanced over at Ignis, whose eyes were equally red. He was sucking down what had to be his sixth cup of coffee in the last couple of hours. The other staff would bring stuff over to him, then dart away after he'd said a few words. Prompto wondered what it was like to be Ignis. Prompto would probably quail under all the responsibility, but being that competent in everything must be nice.

His laptop made the “kweh!” noise he'd programmed it to. He'd set a simple algorithm going figuring it might be a bit more dependable than him. It churned through all of the case files and related news reports looking for anything they had in common. He hadn't expected any results. He didn't think even a machine could pick up something Ignis hadn't been able to.

“Holy-- I think I've got something?”

Ignis hurried over. “You have?”

“Yeah, I, uh... I programmed it to search for anything that showed up a lot in all the case files. Except stuff like 'and' and 'this' and stuff. Kinda didn't think it would work.”

“Prompto. That's brilliant.”

“Hey now...” He hadn't even seen the results yet. He brought up the results that were printed on the text interface. The word 'milkshake' had apparently been found over three hundred times. “Milkshake?”

Ignis was on it faster than Prompto could even process it. “Yes. We tracked the victims purchases before they disappeared. I hadn't thought anything of it... Noct shares a similar appetite for junk food. But every single one of them appears to have ordered a vanilla milkshake. The same proprietor? No. Different locations too.” Ignis' fingers were a blur, searching the database faster than Prompto could track. “That's it! Wysiwyg's Organic Creamery is the supplier.” He pulled up an address on the screen. “If we go there directly, we'd risk alerting the culprit--”

“We don't need to go there, right? Just to wherever the last victim got the milkshake from?”

“Precisely.”

“Let's go, Iggy.”

###

The diner was only a block away from a school, Prompto noticed, his gut twisting. Ignis had a word with the guy behind the counter while Prompto browsed the menu. The milkshakes were on there. A bit more expensive than the regular ones. These guys his age had probably bought them as a treat and then...

Then what? How did this sicko know who was drinking it? How did he get them without being seen? They hadn't solved it. They were nowhere near. It was a lead but not much of one. It might be nothing. People drank milkshakes all the time. And it was apparently a big enough brand to have a surcharge. It might go nowhere. And they'd have nothing while this weirdo kept going.

Ignis reappeared with a paper bag already shiny with grease and the milkshake in his other hand. A group of girls Prompto's age were giggling and staring at him, not that he noticed in the slightest. He was too busy wrinkling his nose at the grease. He really had no idea, did he? Walking around like a supermodel in a tailored suit.

“Here,” he said, handing the bag to Prompto. A burger and fries. “Noct likes to pretend he doesn't consume his own body weight in the stuff. At least you won't pick out the pickles or anything else that dares contain a vitamin.”

“Thanks, bud.”

Ignis glared at the milkshake as they strolled back to the car like he was interrogating it with his mind. He placed it in the cupholder as they took their seats. “Don't get grease on the upholstery,” he said absently, as Prompto dug in to the food.

“Man, I really thought we had him.”

“It isn't over yet.”

###

Ignis really knew how to get shit done. They'd only been back at the Citadel a couple of hours before he was back in the office with a set of test results in hand. Prompto peered over his shoulder when he cracked them open, reading almost faster than his brain could keep up.

“Nanites?”

“It's a more sophisticated operation than we thought,” Ignis said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “They appear to be tracking devices activated by stomach acid. He must have some sort of surveillance system... We didn't find any such thing on the bodies. He must have removed them somehow before they were discovered.”

Best not to think about how. “I think I can track them. If I can get hold of one? And some parts?”

Ignis handed him a test tube. The nanites he assumed, although it looked empty. “Whatever you need.”

###

It took yet more time. Way, way too much time. They had to do it right but every second he took meant one second more the victim had to endure. Prompto didn't sleep. He worked well into the next morning. Mechanical stuff made way more sense to Prompto than anything else ever had but he still had to programme everything. Build it. Interface it with the nanites. And finally link it up with the network Ignis' task force was using.

When he did, hundreds of green lights blinked into life on the map of Insomnia he'd overlaid over the GUI. Lots of people drinking milkshakes and no way to tell who was who. If the victim even still had it in his system. Hundreds seems low if it was really a well-known distributor. Maybe they broke down on their own? Or just passed through the body normally?

Ignis – who'd fallen asleep on the chair next to him with a file still open in his hand – started awake at his noise of frustration. They were the only ones left in the office. Ignis could have went home too but he'd insisted on saying.

“You're finished already?” he said. He stretched, the vertebrae in his back cracking, then came over to inspect.

“Yeah.” Prompto's mind raced. Wait. There was one way to do this. The case files said the murderer sometimes took two victims at once – a pair of brothers once, his sadistic subconscious reminded him. “I can rig something to make one of the lights change colour--”

“Absolutely not. We are not going to use you as bait.”

It was like he was psychic! “So we're just gonna keep letting this dude do whatever he wants until we come up with a better plan?”

“I didn't say that.”

“You know this is our best shot! You can bug me, send someone to follow me, make sure it's safe--”

“It's safest not to involve you at all.”

But Ignis was soft. Noct bitched about his duties all the time but Ignis was always letting him off with stuff. Downright pampered him. A bit of grumbling, a bit of wheedling, and Ignis folded. He'd seen it happen hundred of times. “Iggy. I need this. I need to do this. I have to stop him.” He was already wilting. Prompto did his best to imitate Noct's little pout.

“You said you wouldn't become overly involved,” Ignis said weakly.

“Don't you wanna catch this guy?”

Ignis sagged. “If I think even for a fraction of a second that you might be in danger, I'll call this entire thing off and extract you. Even if that means never catching him.”

###

They did bug him. And had him hide a knife in his clothes. And had plain-clothes Glaives tail him. And Ignis was overseeing the whole thing personally. Prompto did his best to act natural. He ordered a milkshake and some fries and ate them idly at one of the diner's tables. The giggling girls were back. Giggling at him this time. He'd have been flattered before all this. Probably made a fool of himself trying to talk to them. Now the attention just made him feel queasy. Even if they couldn't hurt him. Even if they'd never try to.

He sucked down the milkshake to the last dregs, noisily clearing it out with his straw. Imagined the new green dot appearing on Ignis' screen as the nanites reacted to his stomach acid. He'd rigged a device inside a dummy watch, so he flipped the switch on that. It would change the frequency of his nanites so his dots appeared red on Ignis' screen.

Prompto looked around the diner. Things were too bright and too loud. It was weird. He didn't used to feel unnatural being in public places like this. Plus his clothes... He'd been living in Noct's borrowed stuff for the past few weeks. But it'd be way suspicious for some pleb to be wandering around in royal black so Ignis had picked up some of his own clothes from home. A pair of grey sweats and a red tank top. He'd stared at them for ages before putting them on. They were like a fossil from his past. Sitting here eating junk in his old clothes, it was like time had rewound to before they'd--

Prompto tossed his trash in the can and left the diner. He might as well jog since he was dressed for it, even if the milkshake sloshing around in his stomach slowed him down. He took the old hilly route he used to when he was a kid, going full tilt into a sprint when his stomach had settled enough for it. He pushed himself harder and harder, like when the only thing on his mind was being good enough to be Noct's friend.

He ran for miles and miles until his burning lungs started to clear the jumble in his head. He forced himself to slow. Ignis might think he was being chased if he kept it up. As he crested another hill at a jog, he heard a cheery little jingle. Like the ones ice cream vans played.

Sure enough, a bright pink van slowly came into view. Wysiwyg's Mobile Organic Creamery: Ice Creams, Sodas, Milkshakes.

None of the police reports had mentioned a van. But he could imagine it appearing for the others just like this. Could imagine his past self seeing it at the end of a long run like an oasis in the desert. If Prompto didn't already know what was in there, he'd have bounded toward it. Desperate for something to drink. Prompto dragged himself forward and attempted to look thrilled.

“Working hard?” the man at the window said. 

“Uh-- yeah.” Prompto stared hard at the menu to the right of him, pretending he was deciding on what to order. The man seemed friendly. Looked normal. Colin, his embroidered name tag said. But Prompto could tell. It was something else those men had taken from him on that table. The trust. Now he could see Colin's stares for exactly what they were. His skin crawled as his gaze lingered over Prompto's bare arms and throat. “I'll have a--”

“Got some free samples. Save some of your allowance.”

 _Gods, what was in them?_ Prompto dragged himself to the window and lifted his gaze to meet Colin's. _That's right, bitch, look at me. Such pretty eyes._

“You okay there?”

“Yeah,” Prompto managed. He was shaky now. Clammy. “Just... overdid it, I think. Need to sit.”

Prompto stumbled a few feet away and dropped onto the grass. What was he doing? He was gonna screw this up! Colin followed him. He came out of the van with some fizzy cream soda in hand. “Here,” he said. “Blood sugar's probably low if you've been running.”

Prompto took the bottle and stared at it. Colin hadn't done anything illegal yet. And they didn't know where the victim was. This wouldn't be enough. Prompto took a few swigs of the bottle. His stomach started to churn right after. Definitely not just from the fear. He was light-headed when he tried to stand.

“Whoa,” Colin said, catching him. “Careful now.”

“Don't touch me,” Prompto slurred but his limbs wouldn't cooperate when he tried to pull away. Colin only chuckled and half-carried him into the van. The cheery jingle was back as Prompto's vision started to dim.  
###

Prompto lurched awake, arms straining against the ties at his wrists. The first thing he saw was another face. The same one that had smiled awkwardly out of a yearbook photo in the case files. There was a cloth gag in his mouth and his glasses were cracked but he was still recognisable. And filthy. The only thing cutting through the grime on his cheeks were tear tracks. There was something congealed across his face that Prompto was going to throw up if he thought about too hard.

They'd both been dumped on a disgusting mattress streaked with old brown blood stains. It stank of urine too. And the faint ammonia smell of dried spunk. Prompto gagged as he got a proper lungful, then tried to breathe through his mouth. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. There was no sign of Colin. No sound apart from the other boy's ragged breathing. Prompto tried to take stock of his surroundings. An abandoned building maybe? There were a few of them close to the wall. The boy shuddered beside him at his slight movement.

Prompto forced himself to remember his name. Forced himself to look at his face again. “Ethan?”

He opened his eyes. They were red raw, a few vessels burst in the sclera. Prompto really didn't want to look but he couldn't help noticing all the other details. How he was naked and almost every inch of him was covered in bruises. How there were fresher bruises overlaid over the older ones across his neck, shoulders, hips, and thighs. Dried blood was caked down the back of his thighs. He cringed under Prompto's gaze, drawing his legs up to hide himself.

“It's okay, Ethan,” Prompto said. “We're gonna get him.” If Ignis and the rest of the Glaives didn't, Prompto was gonna get him personally. He still had that knife hidden inside his waistband. He twisted around until he could grab it and sawed through the tie around his wrists. “And then we're gonna get out of here.”

It was clear from the baleful look Ethan gave him that he didn't believe him. And that he wasn't remotely impressed by him escaping from the ties.

“Hey,” Prompto said. “It's true.” Ethan wasn't tied apart from the gag. But he jerked away when Prompto reached for it. He didn't move otherwise. Probably too sore and too exhausted. “Hey Iggy,” Prompto hissed into the bug. “Any time now.”

His heart sank as minutes ticked by with nothing but Ethan's ragged breathing and the occasional waft of stale blood and spunk.

What if something went wrong? What if Ignis had lost the signal? What if...? What if they never came?

Prompto jerked his head towards the sound of something heavy hitting the ground. He leapt to his feet, ready to fight if he had to. That sicko was never touching Ethan ever again! 

Instead a dozen torches lit up the dimness of the building. A group of Kingsglaive, as well as Gladio and Ignis. The healers made a dash for Ethan while Ignis headed straight to Prompto.

“Prompto! Are you all--?”

“Did you get him? You got him, right?”

“Yes,” Ignis said, looking like he'd melt into the floor with relief. “We got him.”

 

Once they were back at the Citadel for a debriefing Prompto could barely hear over the ringing in his head, Gladio thumped him on the back hard enough to send him forward a few steps. “Nice work, kid.” Prompto didn't get a chance to respond before the Glaives swarmed him to shake his hand or slap him on the back almost as hard as Gladio.

Ignis came to his rescue. He took him aside to show him some files or something. Prompto couldn't really concentrate on what he was saying. The adrenaline that had pumped through him still wasn't completely spent.

“You're the man of the hour,” Ignis said when they were somewhere quieter. He gave a brief smile that lingered in his eyes.

“Is Ethan--? Is the victim okay?”

“As well as he can be, considering the circumstances. He's receiving medical attention and his parents are with him. We found the … samples... in the same van used to abduct you as well as the surveillance equipment we suspected. Even without those, we have more than enough evidence to ensure that this animal will be punished for what he did.”

“It should've been sooner. He still--”

Ignis' careful hand on his shoulder silenced him. “Prompto. Without you Ethan and possibly dozens of others might have died. Your algorithm will help us solve countless other cases. You did enough. More than enough. It's quite impossible to believe you could have done more. You should be proud. Certainly, I'm proud of you.”

Prompto shrugged off Ignis' hand. Proud? He'd almost failed. He'd almost lost his nerve and Ethan would have been-- They'd have lost their only lead! He wasn't a hero. He was--

“Prompto. What is your full name?”

Huh? “Prompto Argentum.”

“And your birthday?”

“October twenty-fifth.” Something about the weirdness of Ignis asking and the everydayness of the questions stopped his thoughts ricocheting off his skull.

“Good, Prompto. Now breathe. Ethan is safe. You're safe. All of Insomnia is safer because of you.”

###

Prompto didn't know what he'd been expecting but it wasn't for Noct to cuff him around the ear. “How the fuck could you do something that dangerous?” He rounded on Ignis. “How could you let him do something that dangerous?”

“We took every safety precaution imaginable--”

“Except using someone else! He can't even use the arsenal yet. What if he'd--?”

“I was monitoring his every step. I would never have allowed him to be hurt.”

Allowed? _Allowed_? “It wasn't up to him,” Prompto said. “It's my decision.”

“Your stupid decision! Prompto. You can't just...”

“Just what?”

“Be reckless. We care about you, you know. _I_ care about you. I don't wanna see you get hurt.”

 _Too late for that, your majesty,_ he thought stupidly, spitefully. But he managed not to say it at least. That was a win, right? “I didn't get hurt.” He did a dramatic twirl. “See? Not a scratch.”

Noctis snorted and play-punched him on the arm. “Whatever, dork. Don't ever do that again.”

###

Being called to see Ignis in his office kinda made Prompto feel like he was in trouble. But Ignis didn't even seem to notice him. He was, like, drowning in a sea of paperwork and bent almost double over his laptop. His shirt sleeves were rolled up, showing off the cords of muscle in his forearms.

“Uh, hey? Iggy?”

Ignis poked his head out from behind the screem. “Oh, hello. How long have you been there?”

“I just got here. Gladio said I had to come see you?” He'd been kinda grinning about it too. All the more reason to think he was in trouble.

“Yes.” Ignis snapped the laptop shut. “The police, the Crownsguard, the victims'-- Ethan's family, even the king himself are all in agreement: You deserve a reward. There was some talk of a medal but I assumed you wouldn't want the fanfare. I thought you might appreciate something more... financial? Then I thought, well, there's no need for guesswork when I can simply ask.”

This conversation had left him behind. “A reward?”

“Yes.” Ignis came out from behing his desk and stretched elaborately. “It can be anything you like. Clarus suggested a title but I admit I wasn't sure how you'd receive that.”

“Seems kinda... I don't need stuff. I didn't do it for that.”

“You're already owed a stipend simply for the work you put in to the case. It isn't crass to accept more if that's what you're concerned about. Any Insomnian citizen would be entitled to the same.”

Money? That finally sank in. They wanted to give him _money_ for stopping a rapist. And they didn't think that was crass? “I don't want money.”

Ignis frowned. “Prompto, you've earned this.”

“Not money. I don't want-- Stopping people like him. What he did to Ethan and-- and-- the other guys. No one should profit from that. I'm serious!” he added, as Ignis started to object again.

But Ignis was quick to recover. “If you don't want anything for yourself you could ask for a public service. Or a donation to be made in your honour. But I really can't impress upon you how grateful we all are. We'd all like-- I'd personally like to see you commended.” Oh, was that why Gladio had been so giddy? “Is there really nothing you want for yourself? It can be anything, no matter how small.”

There was one thing. Probably not something the kingdom could give him. “A kiss?”

“Excuse me?”

Ignis was super hot, of course. Ever since they'd had that talk about what sex could be like, Prompto couldn't stop thinking about him and his ways to prepare himself. But it wasn't just that. Ignis was safe. “I want to kiss you.”

Ignis actually recoiled. He tugged his shirt sleeves down to cover his forearms, fiddling with the buttons at his wrist. “Prompto, that's hardly appropriate.”

“I just want... something. Something with someone I actually like.”

“I understand how you feel--”

“Do you?!” He'd shrieked it, making Ignis start. “You know how this feels? How it feels to have a bunch of guys use you and everyone else know about it?”

“No. I didn't meant to imply that.” He moved back toward Prompto, covering the distance he had recoiled. For one insane second Prompto thought he might actually kiss him but he just hovered there with his fingers twitching. “In other circumstances, perhaps, but not like this. And I don't believe you truly want that either.”

 _Gods_ , what was he doing? What _was_ he? He didn't want to bully or manipulate Ignis into kissing him. He didn't want to bully or manipulate anyone into doing anything with him. “I'm-- I'm sorry. That was way out of line. You said no. You said no and I tried to--”

Ignis clasped his shoulders. “Look at me, Prompto. I think I know where your train of thought is heading and I want you to stop it this instant.”

“But I--”

“No. You have nothing in common with those animals and I won't hear anything to the contrary. This was simply a misunderstanding.”

 _Was it, though?_ Ignis hadn't wanted it. Clearly hadn't wanted it. And instead of backing off he had tried to push him. Even now he couldn't stop thinking about how close Ignis was. The spicy, expensive scent of his cologne. The warmth of his palms. How he wanted to shove him onto the floor and-- Stuff he shouldn't be thinking about his friend. Ignis was his _friend_.

“Prompto?”

Prompto reeled away from him and punched the wall hard enough for the plaster to crack. “When does it stop? When do I get to stop being fucked up?”

Ignis touched the centre of his back between his shoulder blades, then quickly withdrew when he flinched at the contact. This wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to put Ignis on the spot like this. Make him deal with the full force of Prompto's crazy. But he couldn't stop.

“It's always there. Even when I think, oh hey, normal brain function for a while it just-- just pops out. I don't wanna deal with this anymore, Iggy. I _can't_.”

“Prompto...” But that was all he said. Ignis, who always knew the right thing to say, didn't have anything.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“I don't know.”

Great. Great! He'd managed to make such a mess of himself even Ignis couldn't fix it.

“But from my perspective, you've already come so much further than anyone could have expected.” Ignis stepped forward again. “May I?” he asked, gesturing at Prompto's fist. Prompto nodded and let him examine it. “When I first met you, I thought of your most unkindly as a disposable reprieve from Noctis' duties. I was wrong. Had I taken the effort to get to know you, I would have seen the mettle underneath. You protected Noct. You saved Ethan. And if anyone has the strength of will to get through this, it's you.” He released Prompto's fist gently, satisfied the knuckles were only scraped.

“But I--” Prompto's eyes were itching. Threatening to well up.

“No buts. The progress you've made is still progress. Don't ever think it isn't enough.”

He was wrong. Prompto wasn't strong. And it wasn't enough. _He_ wasn't enough. He'd never been enough. Not for his parents. Not for Noct. Not for himself.

Ignis pulled him into a hug and that was too much. He sobbed. Gross and wet and snotty against Ignis' dress shirt. But he couldn't stop himself. Couldn't let go. Just gripped the back of Ignis shirt and let it all pour out of him while Ignis stroked his hair and told him it was okay. It was all going to be okay.

“Prompto?” That was Noct's voice. High and concerned.

“Leave him be, Noct.”

“Hey...” Oh great, Gladio was here too. But Prompto couldn't stop crying long enough to pull himself together.

“I suggest you come back later,” Ignis said. “It's been a long day.”

“I got a better suggestion,” said Gladio. He wrapped his arms around Prompto and Ignis. He was so huge he practically engulfed them. “You did good today, kid. Proud of ya.” Prompto just gulped, unable to respond. “Hey Noct, get in on this.”

Noct ran a bit colder than other people. He always complained it was freezing even in summer. He felt pleasantly cool as he slid in beside Prompto and gave him a squish, especially compared to Gladio's furnace-like heat. “Yeah,” Noct said. “You did great. Gonna have to start thinking of a superhero name for you.”

Prompto's sobs slowed to sniffles and then to nothing. Squeezed between the three of them, his head was quiet for once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Group hug for Prompto! And a hug for all of you. Thanks for being so patient and again for all your lovely comments on the last chapter.


End file.
